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L /?i+s. 3,. 


Harvard College 













C \SH 6.3>.S 



PubUahed MMrch, 1918 
Reprinted May, 1919 


To My Wife 


In this history the writer has endeavored to treat the vast 
field of the story of the church so as to make evident, as far 
as he is able, the drciunstances of its origin, its early develop- 
ment, the changes which led to the Reformation, as well as 
the course of that tremendous upheaval, and those influences 
which have resulted in the present situation and tendencies of 
the life of the church. As far as space would permit he has 
directed attention to the growth of doctrine and the modifica- 
tion of Christian thought. 

He b under obligation to many who have labored in this 
field before him, but he would express special indebtedness to 
Professor Friedrich Loofs, of Halle, whose Leitfaden zum 
Shidium der Dogmmgeackichte has been specially helpful in 
the treatment of Christian thought ; and to Professor Gustav 
Kruger, of Giessen, and his associates, whose Handbvch der 
Kirehengesckichte is a mine of recent bibliographical inf orrna* 

WiLUBTON Walker. 

Nvw Havxm, Much, 1918k 




I. The Gcnxral Situation 1 

n. The Jewish Backobound 11 

m. Jesus and the Disciples 18 

IV. ^The Palestinian Chbistian Communities 22 

y. i/^Paul and Gentilb Christiai^tt 25 

VI. The Close of the Apobtouc Age 33 

Vn. The Intebpbetation of Jesus 35 

Vm. Gentile CHBisnANnr of the Second Century ... 41 

IX. j^Chbistian Organization 44 

X.< Relations of Christianitt to the Roman Government 48 

XI. The ApoLOGienrs 50 


L GNomciSM 53 

n. Marcion 56 


IV. The Cathouc Church 59 

V* The Growing Importance of Rome 63 

VI. iRXNiEUS 65 

yn. Tertullian and Ctfrian 67 

vm. The Triumph of the Logos Christologt in the West 71 

IX. The Alexandrian School 76 

X. Chitrch and State from 180 to 260 83 



It The CoNBirnrnoNAL Devxlopuemt of the Cbubcb 87 

f PtJBUC W0B8HIP AND Sacred Seabonb 92 

t, BAPTlBIf 93 

.^The Lobd'b Supper 97 

S. FoBoivENUS or Sow 100 

vThb CoupoernoN of the Cbubch and ise Hiober and 

Lower Morautt 102 

Bxn- AND Growth, 260-303 104 

RivAi. RxuaiouB Foscss 106 

Tbz Final Struqoix 108 


Tbe Changed Situation 112 

Tbe Arian Controvtbbx to the Death of Conbtantinb 114 


The Later Nicene Strikiole 123 

Asian Mis«(»m and the Geriunic Iktaeiohb . . . 129 

The Growth or the Papact 134 

Monabticisu 136 

AMBRoeE AND Chrtbobtoh 140 

The Chribtolooical Contboversieb 143 

The East Divided 153 

Catavtsopheb and Fubtrbr Comtsovebbihi in the 

Eaot 159 

The CoNnrrunoNAL Detelofubnt of ihe Chdbcb . 164 

FuBuc Worship and Sacbed Sea0(»ib 167 

Lower CBBBnANmr 170 

Some Western CHAiucTERiBncs 172 

Jebcoce 173 

aoqcbiine 175 



XVni. Thk Pbxaoian C0NTBOVXR8T 185 

Sxia-PBLAOuinaM 188 

XX. Gbbgobt TBI Gbxat 190 



f. MnmoNB IN THB British Islands ....... Id5 


in. Thk Fbanks and the Papacy 202 

IV. Chablkmaons 205 


VI. CoLLAPSiNQ EifPnuB AND Risma Papact 209 

Vn. Papal Decline and Renewal bt the Revived Empibb . 214 

Vin. Rbfobic Movements 218 

IX. The Refobm Pabtt Secures the Papact 222 

X. The Papact Bbeaks with the Empibb ...... 225 

XI. Hildbbband and Henbt IV 228 

Xn. The Stbitgole Ends in Compboiiise 232 

Xni. The Gbeek Church after the Pictube Contbovebst . 234 

XrV. The Spbead of the Chubch 236 


I.< The Cbxtbades .238 

n. New Reuoious Movements 245 

m. Antichubchlt Sects. Cathabi and Wau>ensbs. The 

iNQTTisrnoN 249 

IV. The Dominicans and Franciscans 254 

V. Eablt Scholasticism 261 

VI. The Univebsities 267 

vn. High Scholasticism and Its Theology 269 


I Mrmci 27S 

laiONB AND Defeats 283 

B Papacy at Its Huoht ahd Its Diclimk . . . 285 

E Papact in AvioNON, CBiTtciaii. Tbi Scmsif . . 292 

cur AND HcBS 293 

I RiFORinNO CouMCiu 306 

E Italian Renaubanck and Its Popes 313 

E New National Powers 320 



B Ldtheban Revolution 365 


E Swiss Retolt 358 

I ANABAPnera 366 

KHAN Pbotebtantisu Establibhbd , ' 370 

E Scandinavian Lands 382 

VOLT IN French Switzeriand and Genxva befobe 

i^ALViN 386 

IK Calvin 389 

c English Revolt 401 

E Scottish -Revolt 415 

E Roman Revival 422 

E Struogle in France, the Nethbkiantns, and 

Shqland 430 


;iNiAiasu 461 

uiNiANiau 463 


AND 467 

E Quakers 





L Thk Tubnino Point 481 

n. The BsGiNmiras of Modern Sciknce and Phxixmopbt 483 

nL Deum and Its Opponents. ScEPncisii 487 


V. PoETiBiff IN Gebmant 495 


Vn. WeSLBT and METHODISIf 507 

VnL Some Effects of Methodkic 518 

DL The Mibsionart Awakxnino 522 

X. The Gbbman Enuqhtenmsnt (AttfklXbuno) .... 524 


Xn. FuBTHEB German Developments 536 

xm. England in the Ninbteenth Century 544 

XIV. Scottish Divisions and REmnoNS 552 

XV. Roman Cathoucism 555 

XVI. American CHRumANnr 564 


Index 605 


Lands about the Easxvbn Msdrbrransan in tbm First 

Cemturt 28 


Tarn CtanADSS 240 





The birth of Christ saw the lands which surrounded the 
Mediterranean in the possession of Rome. To a d^iree never 
before eqiuilled, and unapproached in modern times^ these vast 
territories, which embraoed all that common men knew of 
civilized life, were imder the sway of a sin^e type of culture. 
(^The civilizations of India or of China did not come within the 
^vision of the ordinary inhabitant of the Roman Empire. Out- 
side its borders he knew only savage or semicivilized tribes. 
The Roman Empire and the world of dvflized men were co- 
extensivey All was held together by allegiance to a single Em- 
peror, and by a common military system subject to him. The 
Roman army, smaU in comparison with that of a modepi mili- 
tary state, was adequate to preserve the Roman peace. ' Under 
that peace commaxse flourished, communication was made easy 
by excellent roads and by sea, and among educated men, at 
least in the larger towns, a common language, that of Greece, 
facilitated the interchange of thoughli It was an empire that, 
in :q>ite of many evil rulers and corrupt lower offidals, secured 
a rough justice such as the world had never before seen; and 
its citizens were proud of it and of its achievements. • 

Yet with all its unity of imperial authority and military 
control, Rome was far from crushing local institutions. In 
domestic matters the inhabitants of the provinces were largely 
self-goveming. Their local religious observances were generally 
respected. Among the masses the andent languages and 
customs persisted. Even native rulers were allowed a limited 
sway in portions of the empire, as native states still persist 
under British rule in India. Such a land was Palestine at the 
time of Christ's birth. Not a little of the success of Rome as 
mistress of its diverse subject population was due to this con- 
siderate treatment of local rights and pr^udices. The diver- 


Ity in the empire waa scarcdy less Ksnarkabte than its unity, 
lus variety was nowhere more apparent than in the realm of 
sli^us thought. 

Qiristianity entered no empty world. Its advent found 
len's minds filled with conceptions of the universe, of religion, 
{ sin, and of rewards and punishments, with which it had to 
■ckon and to whidi it had to adjust itself. Christianity 
Duld not build on virgin sotl. Hie conceptions which it found 
[ready existing formed much of the material with which it 
lUst erect its structure. Many of these ideas are no longer 
iiose of the modem world. The fact of this inevitable inte> 
lixture ccKopels the student to distinguish the permanent from 
tie tranaitoiy in Christian tbou^t, thou^ the process is one 
f exceeding difficulty, and the solutions given by various 
^olars are diverse.'^ 

Certun factors in the world of thought mto whidi Chris- , 
anity came belong to univeraal ancient religion and are of 
oary antiquity. All men, except a few representatives d j 
hUoBophical sophistication, believed in the existence c^ i J 
ower, or of powers, invisible, superimman, and eternal, coo- 1 
■oUing human destiny, and to be worshipped or placated hf I 
nyer, ritual, or sacrifice.' (llie earth was viewed as the c«d- I 
■e of the universe. Around it the sun, planets, and stars m J 
im courses. Above it was the heaven; below the abode «( I 
eparted spirits or of the wicked. No conception of what is nof J 
died natural law had penetrated the popular mind. AU tl 
Qgoings of nature were the work of invisible powers of g» 
od evil, who ruled arbitrarily. Miracles were, therefore, ti 
e regarded not merely as possible; they were to be expect 
henever the higher forces would impress men with the it 
ortant or the unusual. Hie world was the abode of imr 
mable spirits, ri^teous or malevolent, who touched human \i 
I all its phases, and who even entered into such possesion 4 
ten as to control their actions for good or ill. A profoui 
inse of unworthiness, of ill desert, and of dissatisfaction vi 
le 'existing conditions ot life characterized the mass of nu 
ind. Hie varied forms of reli^ous manifestation were ei 
ences of the universal need of better relations with the spiritt 
od unseen, and of men's longing for help greater than s 
1^ could give one another.') 

Beades these general conceptions common to popular i 


ligion, the world into which Christianity came owed much to 
the specific influence of Greek thought. Hellenistic ideas 
dominated the intelligence of the Roman Empire, but their 
sway was extensive only among the more cultivated portion of 
the population. Greek philosophic speculation at first con- 
cerned itself with the explanation of the physical universe. 
Yet with Heraditus of Ephesus (about B. C. 490), though all 
was viewed as in a sense physiod, the universe, which is in 
constant flow, is regarded as fashioned by a fiery element, the 
all-penetrating reason, of which men's souls are a part. Here 
was probably the germ of the Logos (X^o9) conception which 
was to play such a r61e in later Greek speculation and Chris- 
tian theology. As yet this shapi^g element was undistinguished 
from material warmth or fire. Anaxagoras of Athens (about 
B. C. 500-428) taught that a shaping mind (poik) acted in 
the ordering of matter and is independent of it* The Pythag- 
oreans, of southern Italy, held thiftt spirit is immaterial, and 
that souls are fallen spirits imprisoned in material bodies. To 
this belief in immatenal existence they seem to have been led 
by a consideration of the properties of niunbers — permanent 
truths beyond the realm of matter and not materially dis- 
cerned. ' 

To Socrates (B. C. 470?-399) the explanation of man him- 
self, not of the universe, was the prime object of thought. 
Man's conduct, that is morals, was die most important theme 
of investigation. Right action is based on knowledge, and 
will result in the four virtues — ^prudence, courage, self-control, 
"i and justice — ^which, as the "natural virtues,'' were to have thdr 
eminent place in mediseval Christian theology. This identi- 
P| fication of virtue with knowledge, the doctrine that to know 
, r will involve doing, was indeed a disastrous legacy to all Greek 
\^. thinking, and influential in much Christian speculation, nota- 
ly in ^e Gnosticism of the second century. 
In Socrates's disciple, Plato (B. C. 427-347), the early Gredc 
reached its highest spiritual attainment. He is properly 
escribable as a man of mystical piety, as well as of the pro- 
bundest spiritual insight. To Plato the passing forms of this 
ible world give no real knowledge. That knowledge of the 
y permanent and real comes from our acquaintance with 
e "ideas," those changeless archetypal, universal patterns 
hich exist in the invisible spiritual world — the "intelligible" 


rid, since known by reason rather than by the arises — aiil 
e whatever of reality is shared by the passing phenomeiu 
sent to our senses. The soul knew these "ideas" in pn- 
us existence. The phenomena of the visible world call ti 
lembrance these once known "ideas." The soul, existjof 
ore the body, must be independent of it, and not affectel 
its decay. This conception of immortality as an attribuii 
the soul, not shared by the body, was always influential ii 
%k thought and stood in sharp contrast to the Hebrer 
rtrine of resurrection. All "ideas" are not of equal wortli 
e highest are those of the true, the beautiful, and especiall,* 
he good. A clear perception of a personal God, as embodl«i 
:be "idea" of the good, was perhaps not attained by Plato. 
; he certainly approached closely to it. The good niles tin 
:ld, not chance. It is the source of all lesser goods, and it 
s to be imitated in the actions of men. The reahn if 
eas" is the true home of the soul, which finds its highest 
isf action in communion with them. Sfilvatios is the recoT- 
of the vision of the eternal goodness and beauty. ' ~ 
Lristotle (B. C. 384^98^ was of a far less mysUcal spirii 
n Plato. To him the visible world wsa an unquestiouei 
lity. He discarded Plato's sharp discrimination betweei 
eas" and phenomena. JJ«^er_exi§lLJKithDUt-the,Jither 
lii existence is a substance, the result, save in the case (f 
1, who is jnirely immaterial, of the impress of " idea," as tlw 
native' force, on matter"which is the content. Matter ii 
If is only potential substance. It has always existed, >(( 
er without form. Hence the world is eternal, for a reitb 
"ideas" antecedent to theu* manifestation in phenomeu 
s not exist. The world is the prime object of knowledge. 
! Aristotle is therefore in a true s^ise a scientist. It: 
nges demand the initiation of a "prime mover," who i-' 
nself unmoved. Hence Aristotle presents this celebratei 
Lunent for the existence of God, But the "prime mover' 
■ka with intelligent purpose, and Grod is, therefore, aV 
y the beginning but the end of the process of the world' 
elopment. Man belongs to the world of substances, bm 
lim there is not merely the body and sensitive "soul" of tk 
mal; there is also a divine spark, a Logos (j'^^Yw), which bt 
res with God, and which is eternal, though, unlike FIati>'> 
ception of spirit, essentially impersonal. In morals Am 


totle held that happiness, or well-being, is the aim, and is at* 
tained by a careful maintenance of the golden mean. 

Greek philosophy did not advance much scientifically be- 
yond Plato and Aristotle, but they had little direct influence 
at the time of Christ. Two centuries and a half after His 
birth, a modified Platonism, Neo-Platonism, was to arise, of i 
great importance, which profoundly affected Christian the-^ 
ology, notably that of Augustine. Aristotle was powerfully 
to influence ^e scholastic theology of the later Middle Ages. 
Those older Greek philosophers had viewed man chiefly in the 
light of his value to the state. The conquests of Alexander, 
who died B. C. 323, wrought a great change in men's outlook. 
Hellenic culture was planted widely over the Eastern world, 
but the small Greek states collapsed as independent political 
entities. It was difficult longer to feel that devotion to the new 
and vast political units that a little, independent Athens had, 
for mstance, won from its citizens. The individual as an inde- 
pendent entity was emphasized. Philosophy had to be inter- ■ 
preted in terms of individual life. How could the individual 
make the most of himself? Two great answers were given, 
one of which was wholly foreign to the genius of Christianity, 
and could not be used by it; the other only partially foreign, 
and therefore destined profoundly to influence. Christian the- 
ology. These were Epicureanism and Stoicism. 

Epicurus (B. C. 342-270), most of whose life was spent in ' 
Athens, taught that mental bliss is the highest aim of man. ^ 
This state is most perfect when passive. It is the absence of 
all that disturbs and annoys. Hence Epicurus himself does 
not deserve the reproaches often cast upon his system. In- 
deed, in his own life, he was an ascetic. The worst foes of 
mentd happiness he taught are groundless fears. Of these 
the chief are dread of the anger of the gods and of death. Both 
are baseless. The gods exist, but they did not create uar do 
th^r govern the world, which Epicurus holds, with Democritus 
(B. C. 470 ?-380 ?), was formed by the chance and ever-changing ' 
combinations of eternally existing atoms. All is material, even : 
the soul of man and the gods themselves. Death ends all, but 
is no evil, since in it there is no consciousness remaining. 
Hence, as far as it was a religion. Epicureanism was one of in- 
difierence. The school spread widely. The Roman poet Lu- 
cretius (B. C. 98 ?'55), in his brilliant De Renrni Natura, gave 


pression to the worthier side of Epicureaniam ; but the itifln- 
ice of the system as a whole was destructive and toward a 
nsuid view of happioess. 

Contemporarily with Epicurus, Euhemerua (about B. C. 300) 
ught that the gods of the old religions were simply deified 
en, about whom myths and tradition had cast a halo oF 
vinity. He found a translator and advocate in the Roman 
let Enniua (B. C. 239f-170?). Parallel with Epicurewusm, 

the teachmg of Pyrrho of Elis (B. C. 360?-270T), and his 
llowers, a wholly sceptical point of view was presented. Not 
erely can the real nature of things never be understood, but 
e best course of action is equally dubious. In practice 
^rriio found, like Epicurus, the ideal of life one of witiidiawal 
am sJl that annoys or dbturbs. With all these theones 
bristianity could have nothing in common, and they in turn 
d not affect it. 

The other great answer was that of Stoicism, the noblest 
pe of sndent pagan ethical thought, the nearest in some R- 
lects to Christianity, and in others remote from it. Its lead- 
s were Zeno (B. C. 1-264 !), Cleanthes (B. C. 301 1-232 ?), and 
trysippus (B. C. 280t-2D7?). Though developed in Athena, it 
>unshed best outside of Greece, and notably in Rome, where 
meca (B. C. 3?-A. D. 65), Epictetus (A. D. 60?-?), and the 
mperor, Marcus Aureus (A. D. 121-180), had great influence. 

was powerfully represented in Tarsus during the early life 

the Apostle Paul. Stoicism was primarily a great ethical 
stem, yet not without claims to be considered a religion. 
s thought of the universe was curiously materialistic. All 
at is re^ is physical. Yet there is great difference in ^ 
leness of bodies, and the coarser are penetrated by the finer. 
Nice fine and coarse correspond roughly to the common dis- 
octions between spirit and matter. Stoicism approximated, 
lOugh it much modified, the view of Heiaiiitus. — ^te ^kuB^ 

bU, and the shapng, harmomzing influence in the miiverse 
the vital warmth, from which all has developed by differing 
^rees of tension, whidi interpenetrates all things, and to 
hich all will return. Far more than Heraclitus's fire, idiici 
reaanUes, it is the intdligent, self-omiacious world-soul, an all 
dwdling reason. Logos (Xtfym), of which our reason is a pait 

is God, the life and wisdom of idl. It is truly within U9' 
^e can "follow the God within" ; and by reason ci it one can 


say, as Cleanthea did of Zeus: "We too are thy offspring." 
The popular gods are ^mply names for the forces that stream 
out from God. 

Since one wisdom exists in all the world, there is one natural 
law, one rule of conduct for all men. AH are morally free. 
Since all are from God, stl dkb «e brothers. Differences in 
stfldon in life are accidental. To follow reason in the place in 
vhich one finds oneself is the highest duty, and is equally 
praiseworthy whether a man is an Emperor or a slave. So to 
obey reason, the Logos, is the sole object of pursuit. Happiness 
is no just aim, though duty done brings a certain happiness 
purely as a by-product. The chief enemies of a perfect obedi- 
ence are passions and lusts, which pervert the judgment. 
These must resolutely be put aside. God inspire. .aU .good 
actSiJtIuuigh.^iejiotion of God is essectitlHy 'pantheistic. 

The strenuous ascetie- atti t u de of Stoicism, its doctrine of the 
all-pervading and all-ruling divine wisdom. Logos (X4J709), its 
in^stence that all who do wdl are equally deserving, whatever 
their station, and its assertion of the essential brotherhood of 
all men, were profoundly to affect Christian theology. In its 
liighest representatives the creed and its results were noble. 
It was, however, too often hard, narrow, and unsympathetic. 
It was for the ^ew. It recognized that the many coi^ never 
r^Bhjts-^fandards. Its spirit was too often, one of pride. 
That of Christianity is one of hmniCty. Still it produced re- 
markable effects. Stoicism gave Rome excellent Emperors and 
many lesser o£Scials. Though it never became a really popular 
creed, it was followed by many of high influence and position 
in the Roman world, and mo(Ufied Roman law for the better. 
It introduced into jurisprud^ice the conception of a law of 
nature, expressed in reason, and above oil arbitrary human 
statutes. By its doctrine that all men are by nature equal, the 
worst features of slavery were gradually ameliorated, and 
Roman ddzenship widely extended. 

One may say ^t the best educated thought m Rome and 
the provinces, by the time of Christ, in spite of wide-spread 
Epicureanism and Scepticism, inclined to pantheistic Mono- 
theism, to the conception of God as good, in contrast to the 
non-moral character of the old Greek and Roman deities, to 
belief in a ruUng divine providence, to the thought that tnie 
religion is not ceremonies but an imitation of the moral quali- 


ties of God, and toward a humaner attitude to men. The two 
dements lacking in this educated philosophy were those of 
certainty such as could only be given by belief in a divine 
revelation, and of that loyalty to a person which Christianitt- 
was to emphasize. ' 

The common people, however, shared In few of these bene 
6ts. They lay in gross superstition. If-tiie-grip of the old 
religions of Greece and Rome bad largely relaxed, they never- 
thdess believed m gods many and lords many. Every town 
had its patron god or goddess, every trade, the farm, the spring, 
the household, the chief events of life, marriage, childbirth. 
These views, too, were ultimately to appear in Christian his- 
tory transmuted into saint-worship. Soothsayers and magi- 
cians drove a thriving trade among the ignorant, and none 
were more patronized than those of Jewish race. Above all, 
the common people were convinced that the maintenance ol 
the historic religious cult of the ancieat gods was necessary 
for the safety and perpetuity of the state. If not observed, 
the gods wreaked vengeance in calamities — an opinion that vas 
the source of much later persecution of Chrbtianity. These 
popular ideas were not vigorously opposed by the learned, 
who largely held that the old religions had a police v^ue. 
They reganled the state ceremonies as a necessity for the com- 
mon man. Seneca put the philosophical opinion bluntly when 
he declared that "the wise man will observe all religious us^es 
as commanded by the law, not bs pleasing to the gods." The 
lowest point in popular religious feeling in the Roman Empire 
corresponds roughly to the time of the birth of Christ 

The abler Emperors strove to strengthen and modify the 
ancient popular worships, for patriotic reasons, into worship 
of the state and of its head. This patriotic deification of the 
Roman state began, indeed, in the days of the republic. The 
worship of the "Dea Roma" may be found in Smyrna as eariy 
as B. C. 195. This reverence was strengthened by the popu> 
laiity of the empire in the provinces as securing them betta 
government than that of the republic. As early as B. C. 29, 
Pergamum hod a temple to Rome and Augustus. This worship, 
directed to the ruler as the embodiment of the state, or rather 
to his "-genius" or indwelling spirit, spread rapidly. It soon 
had an elaborate priesthood under state patronage, divided 
and organized by provinces, and celebrating not only worship 


One such Oriental religion^ of considerably extended appeal, 
though with little of the element of mystery, was Judaism, of 
whi<£ there will be occasion to speak more fully in another 
connection. The popular mind turned more largely to other 
Oriental Quits, of greater mystery^ or rather of larger redemp- 
tive sacramental significance. Their meani^ for the religious 
development of the Roman world h^ been only recently ap- 
preciated at anything like its true value. The most popular of 
these Oriental religions were those of the Great Mother (Cybde) 
\ and Attis, originating in Asia Minor ; of Isis and Serapis from 
^Sypt ; and of Mithras from Persia. At the same time there 
was much iqmcretisti^ mixture of these religions, one with 
another, and with the older religions of the larcs to which they 
came. That of the Great Mother, which i^as essentially a 
primitive nature worship, accompanied by licentious rites, 
reached Rome in B. C. 204, and was the first to gain extensive 
foothold in the West. That of Isis and Serapis, with its em- 
phasis on regeneration and a future life, was well established in 
Rome by B. C. 80, but had long to endure govemmentaToppo- 
sition. That of Mithras, the noblest of alU though, having an 
extended listDry in'the "East, did not become conspicuoiis'at 
Rome till toward the year A. D. 100, and its great spread was 
in the latter part of the second and during the third centuries. 
It was especially belo^^ of soldiers. In the later years, at 
least of its progress in the Roman Empire, Mithras was identi- 
fied with the sun — ^the Sol Inmctus of the Emperors just before 
Constantine. like other religions of Persian origin, its view of 
the universe was dualistic. 

All these religions taught a redeemeivgod. All held that the 
initiate shared in symbolic (sacramental) fashion the experiences 
of the god, died with him, rose with him, became partakers of 
the divine nature, usually through a mesJ shared symbolically 
with him, and participated in his inunortality. All had secret 
rites for the initiated.. All offered mystical (sacramental) 
deansmg from sin. In the religion of Isis and Serapis -^faat 
cleansing was by bathing in sacred water; in those of the 
Great Mother and of Mithras by the blood of a bull, the iaur 
robolium, by which, as recorded in inscriptions, the initiate was 
"reborn forever." All promised a happy future life for the 
faithful. All were more or less ascetic in their attitude toward 
the world. Some, like Mithraism, taught the brotherhood and 


essential equality of all disciples. There can be no doubt tbat 
the development of the early Christian doctrme of the sacra- - 
ments was affected, if not directly by these religions, at least 
by the religious atmosphere whidi they helped to create and 
to which they were congenial. 

In summing up the situation in the heathen world at the 
coming of Chnst, one must say that, amid great confusion, and 
in a multitude of forms of expression, some of them very im- 
worthy, certain religious demands are evident. A religion that , 
should meet the requirements of the age must teach one rights ^' 
eous God, yet find place for numerous spirits, good and bad. 
It must possess a definite revelation of the will of Grod, as in 
Judaism, that is an authoritative scripture. It must inculcate 
a world-denying virtue, based on moral actions agreeable to 
the will and character of God. It must hold forth a future life 
with rewards and punishments. It must have a symbolic 
initiation and promise a real forgiveness of sins. It must pos- 
sess a redeemer-god into miion with whom men could come by 
certm sacramental acts. It must teach the brotherhood of 
aQ men, at least of all adherents of the religion. However 
simple the b^innings of Christianity may have been, Chris- 
tianity must possess, or take on, all these traits if it was to 
conquer the Roman Empire or to become a world religion. It 
came ''in the fubiess of time'' in a much larger sense than was 
fonneriy thought; and no one who believes in Mn overruling 
providence of Grod will deny the fundamental importance of 
this mighty preparation, even if some of the features of Chris- 
tianity's early development bear the stamp and limitations of 
the time and have to be separated from the eternal * 


The external course of events had largely determined the 
development of Judaism in the six centuries preceding the birth 
of Christ. Judsea had been under foreign political control 
^ce the conquest of Jerusaleni by Nebuchadrezzar, B. C. 586. 
It had shared the fortunes of the old Assyrian Empire and of 
its successors, the Persian and that of ^exander. After the 
break-up of the latter it came under the control of the Ptole- 
mies of Egypt and then of the Seleucid dynasty of Antioch. 
^Vhile thus politically dependent, its religious institutions were 


practically undisturbed after their restoration consequent upon 
the Persian conquest of Babylonia ; and the hereditary priestly 
families were the real native aristocracy of the land, in their 
higher ranks they came to be marked by political interest and 
religious indifference. The high-priesthood m particular became 
a coveted office by reason of its pecuniary and political influence. 
With it was assodated^ certainly from Ihe. Greek period, a body 
of advisers and legal interpreters, the Sanhedrim, ultimately 
seventy-one in number. Thus administered, the temple and its 
priesthood came to represent the more formal aspect of the reli- 
gious life of the Hebrews. On the other hand, tbe feeling that 
they were a holy people living under Yahwe's holy law, thdr 
sense of religious separatism, and the comparative cessation of 
prophecy, turned the nation to the study of the law, which was 
interpreted by an ever-increasing mass of tradition. As in Mo- 
hammedan lands to-day, the Jewish law was at once relij^ous 
precept and dvil statute. \ Its interpreters, the scribeSi^ became 
more and more the real reDgious leaders of the people. ^ Juda- 
ism grew to be, in ever^increasing measure, the religii(n of a 
sacred scripture and its mass of interpretative precedent. For 
a fuller understancUng and administration of tibe law, and for 
prayer and worship/^e synagogue developed wherever Judaism 
was represented. - Its^brigin is uncertain, going back probably to 
the Enle. In its 'typical form it was a local congr^;ation in- 
cluding all Jews of the district presided over by a group of 
'' elders," having often a ''ruler" at its head. These were em- 
powered to exconmiunicate and pimish offenders. The services 
were very simple and could be led by any Hebrew, though usu- 
ally under "a ruler of the synagogue." They included prayer, 
the reading of the law and the prophets, their translation and 
exposition (sermon), and the benediction. Because of the un- 
representative character of the priesthood, and the growing im- 
portance of the synagogues, the temple, though highly r^;arded, 
became less and less vital for the religious life of the people as 
the time of Christ is approached, and could be totally de- 
stroyed in A. D. 70, without any overthrow of the essential de- 
ments in Judaism. 

Under the Seleucid Kings Hellenizing influences came strongly 
into Judsea, and divided the claimants for the high-priestly 
office. The forcible support of Hellenism by Antiochus IV, 
Epiphanes (B.C. 175-164), and its accompanying repression 


d Jewish worship and customs, led, m B. (1 167» to the great 
rebellion headed by the Maccabees, and ultimateiy to a period \- 
of Judftan independent which lasted till the conquest by the ^ 
Romans in B. C. 63. This Hellenizing episode brought about 
a jmfound deft in Jewsh life. The Maccabean rulers secured 
for themsdves the high-priestly office ; but though the family 
had risen to leadership by opposition to Hellenism and by r^ 
ligious zeal, it gradually drifted toward Hellenism and purely 
political ambition. Under John Hyrcanus, the Maccabean 
ruler from B. C. 135 to 105, the distinction between the re> 
ligious parties of later Judaism became marked. The aristo- 
cratic-political party, with which Hyrcanus and the leading 
priestly families allied themselves, came to be known as Sad- 
duoees — a title the meaning and antiquity of which is uncer- 
tain. It was essentially a worldly party without strong r^ 
ligious conviction. Many of ti\e views that the Sadducees 
entertained were conservatively representative of the older 
Judaism. Thus, they held to the law without its traditional 
interpretation, and denied a resurrection or a personal immor- 
tality. On the other hand, they rejected the ancient notion of 
spirits, good or bad. Though politically influential, they were 
unpopular with the mass of the people, who opposed all foreign 
influences and stood firmly for the law as interpreted by the 
traditions. The most thoroughgoing representatives of this 
democratic-legalistic attitude were the Pharisees, a name which 
signifies the Separated, presenting what was undoubtedly a 
long previously existing attitude, though the designation ap- 
pears shortly before the time of John Hyrcanus. With his 
reign the historic struggle of Pharisees and Sadducees begins. 

As a whole, in spite of the fact that the Zealots, or men of 
actbn, sprang from them, the Pharisees were not a political 
party. Thoi^h they held the admiration of a majority of the 
people, they were never very numerous. The ordinary working 
Jew lacked the education in the minutiae of the law or the leisure 
to become a Pharisee. Their attitude toward the mass of Ju- 
daism was contemptuous.^ They represented, however, views 
whidi were widely entertained and were in many respects 
normal results of Jewish religious development since the Exile. 
Their prime emphasis was on the exact keeping of the law as 
interpreted by the traditions. They held strongly to the ex- 

» John 7«. 


F spirita, good and bad — a doctrine of angda and U 
at had apparently received a powerful impulse fiwn 
dea3. They represented that growth of a belief in 
■ection of the body, and in future rewards and punish- 
iii!h-4Mwi- 3een~ir remarkable devdopment during the 
urtes preceding Chrbt's birth. They held, like the 
nerally, to the Mesaianic hope. The Pharisees, from 
nta of view, were deserving of no little respHTt, From 
infuaed with these ideas Christ's disciples were la^y 

The most learned of the Apostles had been bii^df 
e, and called himself such years after having become 
in.' Their earnestness was praiseworthy. The great 
Pharisaism was twofold. It looked upon religion u 
og of an external law, by which a reward was earned, 
ping involved of necessity neither a real inward right- 
of spirit, nor a warm personal relation to God. It also 
from the divine promises those whose failures, sins, 
rfect keeping of Uie law made the attainment of the 
standard impossible. It disinherited the "lost sheep" 
luse of Israel. As such it received the well-merited 
ition of Christ. 

essianic hope, shared by the Pharisees and coqudod 
ike, was the outgrowth of strong national conscioiu- 
faith in God. It was most vigorous in times of os- 
sression. Under the earlier Maccabees, when a God- 
le had given independence to the people, it was little 
i later Maccabees, however, deserted their family 
The Romans conquered the land in B. C. 63. Nor 
dtuation really improved ^m a strict Jewish stand- 
len a half-Jewish adventurer, Herod, the son of the 
Antipater, held a vassal kingship under Roman bver- 
[rom B. C. 37 to B. C. 4. In spite of his undoubted 
o the material prosperity of the land, and his mag- 
•building of the temple, he was looked upon as a tool 
mans and a Hellenizer at heart. The Herodians were 
>y Sadducees and Pharisees alike. On Herod's death 
om was divided between three of his sons, Archelam 

"ethnarch" of Judaea, Samaria, and Idumea (B.C. 
)); Herod Antipas "tetrarch" of Galilee and Penea 
A. D. 39) ; and Philip "tetrarch" of the prevailing)}' 


of John the Baptist are best known. It was not Fharisuc, but 
far more vital. 

One further conception of later Judaism is of importance by 
reason of its influence on the development of Christian theolog}'. 
It is that of "wisdom," which is practically personified as ex- 
isting side by side with God, one with Him, His "possession" 
before the foundation of the world. His agent in its creation.' 
It is possible that the influence of the Stoic thought of the all- 
pervading divine Logos (Xc^w) is- here to be seen ; but a more 
ethical note sounds than in the corresponding Greek teaching. 
Yet the two views were easy of assimilation. 

Palestine is naturally flrst in thought in a conuderation of 
Judaism. It was its home, and the scene of the beginnings of 
Christianity. Nevertheless the importance trf the dispersion 
of the Jews outside of Palestine, both for the religious life of 
the Roman Empire as a whole, and for the reflex effect upon 
Judaism itself of the consequent contact with Hellenic thought, 
was great. This disper^on had b^;un with tbe conquests of 
the Assyrian and Babylonian monarchs, and had been furthered 
by many rulers, notably by the Ptolemies of Egypt, and the 
great Romans of the closing days of the republic and the dawn- 
ing empire. Estimates are at best conjectural, but it b not 
improbable that, at the birth of Christ there were five or six 
times as many Jews outside of Palestine as withm its borders. 
They were a notable part of the population of Alexandria. 
They were strongly rooted m Syria and Asia Minor. They were 
to be found, if in relatively small numbers, in Rome. Few 
dties of the empire were witbout their presence. Clannish and 
viewed with littie favor by the heathen population, they pros- 
pered in trade, were valued for their good qualities by the rulers, 
their religious scruples were generally respected, and, in turn, 
they displayed a missionary spirit which made their reli^ous 
impress felt. As this Judaism of the dispersion presented it- 
self to the surrounding heathen, it was a far simpler creed than 
Palestinian Pharisaism. It taught one God, who had revealed 
Hb will in sacred Scriptures, a strenuous morality, a future life 
with rewards and punishments, and a few relatively simple 
commands relating to the Sabbath, circumcision, and the use 
of meats. It carried with it everywhere the synagogue, with 
its uneUborate and non-ritualistic worship. It appealed power- 
iPrw. 3»; 8; P«a(nu 33*. 


d Hebrew ideas might be united, and were actually to 
d, in the development of later Christian theologuT In 
r portion of the Roman world was the proc^ which 
presented so fully developed as in Alexandria.1] 


ray was prepared for Jesua by John the Baptist, in the 
of the esi^ Christians the "forerunner" of the Mes- 
kscedc in life, he preached in the r^on of the Jordan 
; day of judgment upon Israel was at hand, that the 
was about to come; and despising all formalism in 
and all dependence on Abrahamic descent, he pro- 
in the spirit of the ancient prophets their message: 
, do justice." His directions to the various classes o( 
'ers were simple and utterly non-legalistic.^ He bap- 
i disciples in token of the washing away of their sins ; 
ht them a special prayer. Jesus classed him as the 
i among the greatest of the prophets. Though mtuiy< 
oUowers became those of Jesus, some per»sted inde-i 
ly and were to be found as late as Paid's mimstry ini! 

! the materials are lacking for any full biography o', 
tch as would be available in the case of one living inj 

times, they are entirely adequate to determine Hia 

of life. His character, and His teaching, even if man;i| 

ID whidi greater light could be desired are left in obe 

He stands forth clearly in all His essential qualitiesjl 

brought up in Nazareth of Galilee, in the simple sui^i 
Ss of a carpenter's home. The land, though despise4' 
nore purely Jewish inhabitants of Judsea on account olti 
lerable admixture of races, was loyal to the Hebrew re^ 
id traditions, the home of a hardy, self-respecting pops 

and particularly pervaded by the Messianic tiop& 
sus grew to manhood through years of unrecorded 
ice, which, from His later ministry, must have beell 
profound ^iritual insight and "favor with God auij 

this quiet life He was drawn by the preaching of Jofa| 
itist. To him He went, and by him was baptized, ii 
3»-M; utat. y-". Md», IV-*, ] 


i Messianic founder of the kingdom of God. Yet that king- 
tn was Dot earthly, Maccab«in. It was always spirituil 
it His conception of it enlarged. At first He seems to hsv 
;arded it as for Jews onIy> As He went on, His conceptia 
its inclusiveaess grew, and He taught not merely that man; 
hall come from tihe east and west and from the north aoii 
ith,"* but that the kingdom itself will be taken from tb' 
believing Jews.* Jesus held Himself in a peculiar defw 
; ftiend of the sons and daughters of the kingdom whwi 
larisaism had disinherited, the outcasts, publicans, harloti 
d the poor. Thdr repentance was of value in the si^t d 

The kingdom of God, in Jesus* teaching, Involves the recog- 
ion of God's sovereignty and fatherhood. We are His chit 
en. Hence we should love Him and our neighbors.* AI 
lom we can help are our neighbors.' We do not so Iom 
w. Hence we need to repent with sorrow for sin, and tun 
God; and this attitude of sorrow and trust (repentance anl 
th) b followed by the divine forgiveness.' The ethicj 
mdard of the kingdom is the highest concdvable. " Be jt 
erefore perfect, even as your Father whidi is in heave) 
perfect"' It involves the utmost strenuousness towarl 
f,' and unlimited forgiveness toward others.* Forgivenea 
others is a necessary condition of God's forgiving us."* Then-' 
i two ways in life: one broad and easy, the other narrow aol 
rd. A blessed future or destruction are the ends." Jesil 
IS, like His age, strongly ^schatologica l in His outloob 
lough He felt that the kmgdom la begun now," It is to 1*, 
ich more powerfully manifested in the near future, Tl^ 
d of the present age seemed not far off.^ 
Most of these views and sayings can doubtless be parallelej 
the religious thought of the age ; but the total effect vii 
/olntionary. " He taught them as one that had authority 
d not aa the scribes."" He could say that ibe least of Vm 
idples is greater than John the Baptist;" and that heavel 

Afar* 7"; MaU. lO"-', 15». 

* Luke 13". 

" Mark 12>-". 

Mark 12»-». 


' Luke 15"-". 

Matt. 6". 

* Mark 9***. 

• Matt. 18"- ". 

Mark 11»- <•. 

u MaU. 7"- ». 

•« Mark *>-»•, Luke 11*. 


and earth should pass away bef(M« His words.' He called ihe 
heavy-laden to Him and offered than rest.* He promised to 
those who confessed Him before men that He would confess 
them before His Father.' He declared that none knew the 
Father but a Son, and he to whom the Son should reveal the 
Father.* He proclaimed Himself lord of the Sabbath,* than 
which, in popular estimate, there was no more sacred part of 
the God-given Jewish law. He affirmed that He had power 
to pronounce forgiveness of sins.* On the other hand. He 
felt His own humanity and its limitations no less cleariy. He 
prayed, and taught His disciples to pray. He declared that 
He did not know the day or Uie hour of ending of the present 
world-age; that was known to the Father alone.' It was not 
His to determine who should sit on His right hand and His 
left in Hb exaltation.* He prayed that the Father's will, not 
His own, be done.* He cried in the agony of the cross : "My 
God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"" The mystoy of Hu 
person is in these utterances. Its divinity is no leas evident 
than its humanjty^ The Aowj is beybnd~OQP~Bxperteaee',' and 
therefore "Beyond our powers of comprehension ; but the church 
has always busied itself with the problem, and has too often 
practically emphasized one side to the exclusion of the other, 

Jesus substituted for the external, work righteous, cere- 
monial religion of contemporary Judaism, the thought of piety 
as consisting in love to God and to one's neighbor — to a God 
•who is a Father and a neighbor who is a brother — ^manifested 
primarily in an attitude of the heart and inward life, the fruit 
of which is external acts. The motive powo' of that life is 
personal allegiance to Himself as the revdation of the Father, 
the type of redeemed humanity, the Elder Brother, and the 
King of the kingdom of God. 

What Jesus taught and was gained immense «gnificance 
from the conviction of His disciples that His death was not the 
end — from the resurrection faith. The htnv of this conviction 
is one of the most puzzling of historical problems. The fact 
of tliia conviction is unquestionable. It seems to have conte 
first to Peter," who was in that sense at least the "rock " Apostle 


> MaU. IP'. 

■JfoB. 10". 

Maa. 11"; lAJcelVK 

' Mark 2"-«. 


hfork 13". 

• Mark 10*. 

' Mark 14». 

Mark 15". 

" 1 Cor. 15». 


on wbom the church was founded. All the early disdples 
shared it. It was the turning-point in the conversion of Paul. 
It gave courage to the scattered disciples, brought them to- 
gether again, and made them witnesses. Henceforth they had 
a risen Lord, in the exaltation of glory, yet ever interested in 
them. The Messiah of Jewish hope, in a profounder spiritual 
reality than Judaism had ever imagined Him, had really lived, 
died, and risen again for their salvation. 

lliese convictions were deepened by the experiences of the 
day of Pentecost. The exact nature of the pentecostal mani- 
festation is, perhaps, impossible to recover. Certunly the con- 
ception of a proclamation of the Gospel in many fordgn lan- 
guages is inconsistent with what we know of speaking with 
tongues elsewhere' and with the criticism reported by the 
author of Ada that they were "full of new wine," * whicli 
Peter deemed worthy of a reply. But the point of significance 
is that these spiritual manifestations appeared the visible and 
audible evidence of the gift and power of Christ.' To these 
first Christians it was the triumphant inauguration of a rela- 
tion to the hving Lord, confidence in which controlled mudi 
of the thinking of the Apostolic Church. If the disciple visibly 
acknowledged his allegiance by faith, repentance, and baptism, 
the exalted Christ, it was believed, in turn no less evidently 
acknowledged the disciple by His gift of the Spirit. Pentecost 
was indeed a day of the Lord ; and though hardly to be called 
the birthday of tibe church, for that had its beginnings in Jesus' 
association with the disciples, it marked an epoch in the proc- 
lamation of the Gospel, in the disciples' conviction of Christ's 
presence, and in the increase of adherents to the new futh. 


The Christian community in Jenis&lon seems to' have grown 
rapidly. It speedily iacluded Jews who had lived in the dis- 
persion as well as natives of Galilo; and Jifdea^ and even some 
ot the Hebrew priests. By tha Christian body the name 
"church" was very early adopted. Tlie defflgi»tion oomcs 
from the Septtia^t translation of the Old iWument, -vthae 
it had been aupbyed to indicate the whole pec^^ of Ittvd aa 
a divinely called oongr^ation. As such it was a fitting Utit 

> See 1 Cor. U'-t*. * Aeli S". * Ath 2-. 


rw for the national sia of rejecting Jesus as the Messiah 
ell as for peraonal sins. This repentance and acknowledg- 
t of loyalty was followed by baptism in the name of Christ, 
sign of cleansing and token of new relationship, and' was 
d with the divine approval by the bestowment of spiritual 
} This preaching of Jesus as the true Messiah, and fear 
consequent disregard of the historic ritual, led to an at- 
by Pharisaic Hellenist Jews, which resultoj in the death 
le first Christian martyr, Stephen, by stoning at the hands 
mob. The imm e dia te c o na equence was a partial scatter- 
)f the Jerusalem congregation, so that the seeds of Chris- 
ty were sown throughout Judeea, in Samaria, and even 
( remote regions as Ciesarea, Damascus, Antioch, and the 
d of Cyprus. Of the original Apostles the only one who 
rtainly known to have exercised a considerable missionary' 
nty was Peter, though tradition ascribes siich labors to 
1 alf. John may have engaged, also, in such endeavor, 
gh the later history of this Apostle is much in dispute, 
le comparative peace which followed the martyrdom of 
hen was broken for the Jerusalem church by a much more 
re persecution about A. D. 44, instigated by Herod Agrippa 
ho from 41 to his death in 44, was vassal-king over the 
ler territories of Herod the Great. Peter was imprisoned, 
escaped death, and the Apostle James was beheaded. In 
lection with the scattering conseqnenf iipbn this persecu- 
is probably to be found whatever truth underlies the tradi- 
tbat the Apostles left Jerusalem twelve years after the 
i&rion. At all events, Peter seems to Kave^beeii "on^ oe- 
m^iylEhere henceforth; and the leadership of the Jeni^em 
ch fell to James, "the Lord's brother," who-even'tMlier 
become prominent in its affairs.* This position, which he 
till his martyr's death about 63, has often been called a 
hopric," and undoubtedly it corresponded in many ways 
lie monarchical bishopric in the Gentile churches. There 
3 evidence, however, of the application to James of the 
1 "bishop" in his lifetime. When the successions of re- 
us leadership among Semitic peoples are remembered, 
dally the importance attached to relationship to the 
der, it seems much more likely that there was here a rudi- 
tary caliphate. This interpretation is rendered the more 
a* 2". ". » Gat. 1", 2» ; Ada 21". 


probable because James's successor in the leadership of the 
Jerusalem church, though not chosen tilt attex the conquest of 
the city by Titus in 70, was Simeon, esteemed Jesus' kinsman. 
Under the leadership of James the church in Jerusalem em- 
braced two parties, both in agreement that the ancient law of 
Israel was binding on Christians of Jewish race, but difTering 
as to whether it was similarly regulative for Christian converts 
from heathenism. One wing held it to be binding on all ; the 
other, of which James was a representative, was willing to 
allow freedom from the law to Gentile Christians, though it 
viewed with disfavor such a mingling of Jews and Gentiles at 
a common table as Peter was disposed, for a time at least, to 
welcome.^ The catastrophe which ended the Jewish rebellion 
in the year 70 was fateful, however, to all the Christian com- 
munities in Palestine, even though that of Jerusalem escaped 
the perils of the siege by flight. The yet greater overthrow of 
Jewish hopes under Hadrian, in the war of 132 to 135, left 
Palestinian Christianity a feeble remnant. Even before th^ 
first capture of the city, more influential fod of Christian in- 
fluence were to be found in other portions of the empire. The 
Jerusalem church and its associated Palestinian communities 
were important as the fountain from which Christianity first 
flowed forth, and as securing the preservation of many memorials 
of Jesus' life and words that would otherwise have been lost, 
rather than as influencing, by direct and permanent leader- 
ship, the development of Christianity as a whole. 


As has already been mentioned, the persecution which 
brought about Stephen's martyrdom resulted in the planting 
of Christianity beyond the borders of Palestine. Missionaries, 
whose names have perished, preached Christ to fellow Jews. 
In Antioch a further extension of this propaganda took place. 
Antioch, the capital of Syria, was a city of the first rook, a 
remarkably cosmopolitan meeting-place of Greeks, Syri^, 
and Jews. There the new faith was preached to Greeks. The 
effect of this preaching was the spread of the Gospel among 
those of Gentile antecedents. By the populace they were 
nicknamed "Christians" — a title little used by the followers 

" Gal. 2"-". 


Jesus themselves till well into the second century, though 
4ier prevalent among the heathen. Nor was Antioch the 
thest goal of Christian ^ort. By 51 or 52, under Claudius, 
nults among the Jews consequent upon Christian preaching 
unknown missionaries attracted governmental attentjon 
Rome itself. At this early period, however, Antiodi' was 
t centre of development. The eSect of this conversion of 
)se whose antecedents had been heathen was inevitably to 
se the question of the relation of these disciples to the Jew- 
law. Should that rule be imposed upon Gentiles, Christ)- 
ty would bfi-buta-Jewishsect; should Gentiles be free from 
Christianity could become a universal religion, but at the 
t of much Jewish sympathy. That this inevitable conflict 
s decided in favor of the larger doctrine was primarily the 
rk of the Aposti&J'aul. 

Paul, whose Hebreif name, Saul, was reminiscent of the hero 
the tribe of Benjamin, of which he was a member, was bom 
the Cilician dty of Tarsus, of Pharisaic parentage, but of 
ather possessed of ^Rollian 'Citizenship. Tarsus was eminent 
the educational world, and at the time of Paul's birth was 
est of Stoic teaching. Brought up in a strict Jewish home. 
:rc is no reason "ttr believe that Paul ever received a fonnal 
Ilenic education. He was never a Hellenizer in the sense 
Philo of Alexandria, A wide-awake youth in sudi tr eitj' 
lid not fail, however, to receive many Hellenic ideas, and to 
x>me familiar, in a measure at least, with the political and 
Igious atmosphere of the larger world outside his orthodox 
rish home. Still, it was in tiie rabbinical tradition that he 
w up, and it was as a future scribe that he went, at an age 
r unknown, to study under the famous Gamaliel the elder, 
Fenisalem. How much, if anything, he knew of the ministry 
Jesus other than by common report, it is impossible to de- 
mine. His devotion to the Pharisuc conception of a nation 
de holy by careful observance of the Jewish law was extreme, 
1 his own conduct, as tried by that standard, was "blame- 
i," Always a man of the keenest spiritual insight, however, 
came, even while aj'harisee, to feel deep inward diaaatia- 
tion with his own attainmeiits in character. The iaw did 
: give a reai inward righteousness. Such was his state d 
id when brought into contact with Christianity. If Jesus 
s no true Mes^ab, He had justly suffered, and His diadples 


t of Christian activity; and from it in obedience, as 
tclkian congregation believed, to divine guidance, 
Barnabas set forth for a missionary journey that 
1 to Cyprus and thence to Perga, Antioch of Pisidia, 
Lystra, and Derbe — the so-called first missionary 
escribed., in Ada 13 and 14. Apparently the most 
'angelistic endeavor thus far in the history of the 
resulted in the establishment of a group of congre- 
southern Asia Minor, which Paul afterward addre^ed 
of Galatia, though many scholars would find the 
churches ia more northern and central rc^ons of 
ir, to which no visit of Paul is recorded, 
iwth of the church in Antioch and the planting of 
rches in Cyprus and Galatia now raised the question 
relation to the law. on a great scale. The congre- 
Antioch was turmoiled by visitors from Jerusalem 
bed : " Except ye be circumcised after the custom of 
cannot be saved."^ Paul determined to make a test 
Icing with him "Ktus, an undrcumcised Gentile con- 
concrete example of non-legalistic Christianity, he 
Barnabas to Jerusalem and met the leaders there 
The result reached with James, Peter, and John 
dial recognition of the genuineness of Paul's work 
! Gentiles, and an agreement that tbe field should be 
le Jerusalem leaders to continue the mission to Jews, 
Evith maintenance of the law, while Paul and Bamo- 
go with their free message to the Gentiles.' It was a 
onorable to both sides; but it was impossible of fuU 
What were to be the relations in a mixed church? 
'-keying Jews and law>free Gentiles eat together? 
tier question was soon raised in connection with a 
iter to Antioch.* It led to a public discussion in the 
congregation, probably in the year 49 — the so-called 
f Jerusalem — and the formulation of certain rules 
mixed eatin^.^ To Paul, anything but the freest 
f Jew and Gentile deemed impossible. To Peter and 
the questioB-^-terms-of common eating seemed of 
portance. Paul withstood them both. He must 
>attle largely alone, for Antioch seems to have held 
lalem in this matter of intercourse at table. 

•CW. 2'-^. *Gal. 2"-". 'Ada 16*^. 














B B a) I A 




ii y I *> 




V A *>\*^« 







^ ^ A IT B 

S S 









— {^ 










Then followed the brief years of Paul's greatest missionary 
activity, and the period to which we owe all his epistles. 
Taking with him a Jerusalem Christian, of Roman citizenship, 
Silas by name, he separated from Barnabas by reason of dis- 
agreement regarding eating, and also by dissension regarding 
the conduct of Bamabas's cousin, Mark.' A journey dirough 
the region. of Gatatia brought him Timothy as an assistant. 
Unable to labor in western Asia Minor, Paul and his companions 
nov entered Macedonia, founding churches in Philippi and' 
Tbessalonica, being coldly received in Athens, and spending 
eighteen months in succ^isful work in Corinth (probably 51- 
53). Meanwhile the Judaizers had been undermining his 
apostolic authority in Galatia, and from Corinth he wrote to 
these churches his gteab ^istte vindicating not merely hia 
own ministry, but the freedom of Christianity from alF obliga- 
tion to the Jewish law. It was the diarter oS a universal' 
Christianity. To the Thessalonians he also wrote, meeting 
their peculiar difficulties regarding persecution and the ex- 
pected coming of Christ 

Taking Aquita and Priscilla, who had become his fellow la- 
borers in Corinth, with him to Ephesus, Paul left them there and 
made a hurried visit to Jerusalem and Antioch. On his retiun 
to Ephesus, where Christianity had already been planted, he 
began a ministry there of three years' duration (53?-56?). 
Largely successful, it was also full of opposition and of such peril 
that Paul "despaired even of life"* and ultimately had to flee. 
The Apostles' burdens were but increased during this stay at 
Ephesus by moral delinquencies, party strife, and consequent 
rejection of his authority in Corinth. These led not merely 
to his significant letters to the Corinthiana, but on departure 
from Ephesus, to a stay of three months in Corinth itself. Hia 
authority was restored. In this Corinthian sojourn he wrote 
the greatest of.biiepistles, ihaL^io-H^BomanB, 

Meanwhile Paul had never ceased to hope that the breach 
between him and his Gentile Christians and the rank and file 
of the Jerusalem church could be healed. As a thank-offering 
for what the Gentiles owed to the parent community, he had 
been collecting a contribution from his Gentile converts. 
This, in spite of obvious peril, he determined to take to Jeru- 
salem. C^ the reception of thb gift and of the course of Paul's 
*Am IS*". "2 Cor. 1». 


egotiationa nothing b known ; but the Apostle himsdf ms 
[>eedily arrested in Jerusalem and sent a prisoner of the 
tOman Government to'CEesarea, doubtless as an inciter of riot- 
ig. Two years' imprisonment (57f-597) led to no decisive 
3Sult, since Paul exercised his right of appeal to the imperi&l 
ibunal at Rome, and were followed by his adventurous }aur- 
ey to the capital as a prisoner. AtReme-he UyM in custody, 
art of the time at least in bis own hired lodgiDg,~^i' tvo 
ears (60?-62?). Here he wrote to his beloved churches oui 
'phesiaru, Coloasians, Pkilippiana, and briefer letters to 
'kUemon and to Tiiaothy (the second epistle). Whether he wu 
■leased from imprisonment and made further journeys is i 
roblem which still divides the opinion of scholars, but the 
^ht of such slight evidence as there is appears to be against 
. There is no reason to doubt the tradition that he was 
eheaded on the Ostiau way outside of Rome; but the year is 
Qcertain. Tradition places his martyrdom in connection 
ith the great Neronian persecution of 64. It was not cod- 
lined in place with that sav^e attack, and may well have 
snirred a little earlier without being dissociated in later view 
om that event: 

Paul's heroic battle for a universal, non-legalistic Chiisti- 
[ii'ty hai bf-^-n qiiffiflfj.tly^iTTfeit-t Hia G hrisUjlug y~ will bt 
inadered in another connection^ Was he the founder iw 
le remaker of Christian theology! He would himself ea^ 
estly have repudiated these imputations. Yet an interpreta- 
on by a trained mind was sure to present the simple faith of 
rimirive Christianity in somewhat altered form. Thou^ 
aul wrought into Christian theology much that came from hi.' 
ra rabbinic learning and Hellenic experience, his profound 
hristian feeling led him into a deeper insight into the mind 
' Christ than was possessed by any other of the early disciides. 
aul the theologian is often at variance with the picture of 
hrist presented by the Gospels. Paul the Christian is pro- 
lundly at one. 

Paul's conception of freedom from the Jewish law was as far 

1 possible from any antinomian undervaluation of morality. 
' the old law had passed away, the Chrbtian b under "the 
w of the Spirit of life." He who has the Spirit dwelling m 
m, will mind "the things of the Spirit," and will "mortify 

' Section VII. 


it is an epitome of his faith. Christ is the ''Lord/' himself the 
"slave." Nor is confidence in the resurrection less Jiecessaty, 
as the crowning proof of Christ's divine Sonship.* 

The Christian life is one filled with the Spirit. All graces 
are from Him, all gifts and guidance. Man having the Spirit 
is a new creature. Living the life of the Spirit, he no longer 
lives that of the "flesh." But that all-transforming and in- 
dwelling Spirit is Christ Himself. "The Lord is the Spirit"' 
If Christ tJius stands in such relation to the individual disciple 
that union with Him is necessary for all true Christian life, 
He is in no less vital association with the whole body of be- 
lievers — ^the church. Paul uses the word church in two senses, 
as designating the local congregation, Philippi, Corinth, Rome, 
"the church that is in their house," and as indicating the whole 
body of believers, the true Israel. In the latter sense it is the 
body of Christ, of which each local congregation is a part.' 
From Christ come all officers and helpers, fdl spiritual gifts/ 
He is the source of the life of the church, and these gifts are 
evidence of His glorified lordship.^ 

Like the early disciples generally, Paul thought the coming 
of Christ and the end of the existing world-order near; though 
his views underwent some modification. In his earlier epistles 
he evidently believed it would happen in his lifetime.* As 
he came toward the close of his work he felt it likely that he 
would die before the Lord's coming.^ Regarding ^e resur- 
rection, Paul had the greatest confidence. Here, however, 
Hebrew and Greek ideas were at variance. The Jlebrew con- 
ception was a living again of the flesh. The Greek, tJbe im- 
mortality of the soul. Paul does not always make his posi- 
tion dear. Romans 8^^ looks like the Hebrew thought; but 
the great passage in 1 Cor. 15*^** points to the Greek. A 
jud^oent is for all,* and even, among the saved there will be 
great differences.* The end of all things is the subjection of 
all, even Christ, to God the Father.^® 

1 RomoM 1*. * 2 Cor. 3". 

» Bpk. 1". " ; Cat. 1". * Eph. 4»» ; 1 Car. 12*Ji. 

» Ev^. 4'». • 1 Thew. 4»-". 

» PhUippian^ 1". •* ; 2 Tim. 4«-«. • 2 Cor. 5". 

• 1 Cor. 3»-i». » 1 C<yr, 16»-w 


red one of its oldest catacombs. Of this poaecution under 
imitian (81-96) few details are known, but it must have 
en of severity in Rome and in Asia Minor.^ 
Yet though some gleanings can be recovered from this period, 
e forty years from 70J«110 remain one of the obscurest p<H- 
ins of diurch history. \'his is the more to be regretted be- 
use they were an epoch of rapid change in the church itself, 
hen the characteristics of the church can once more be dearly 
teed its general conception of ChristiaDity shows surprisingly 
tie of the distinctive stamp of Paul. Not only must many 
w unknown missionaries have labored in addition to the great 
>ostle, but an inrush of ideas from other than Christian 
Lirces, brought undoubtedly by converts of heathen ante- 
dents, mod^ed Christian beliefs and practices, espedally 
yarding the sacraments, fastings, and the rise of liturgical 
ms. The old conviction of the immediacy of the guidance 
the Spirit faded, without becoming wholly extii^^uished. 
le constitution of the church itself underwent in this period, 
far-reaching development, of which some account will be 
^en (p. 44). 

Ad illustration of this non-Pauline Christianity, thou^ 
thout evidence of the infiltration of heathen ideas, is to be 
m in the Epistle of James. Written late in the first 
ry or early in the second, it is singularly poor in theolc 
Dtent. Ita directions are largely ethical. Christianity 
e conception of the writer, is a body of right principles 
actised. Faith is not, as with Paul, a new, vital, per 
ationship. It is intellectual conviction which must be 
onented by appropriate action. It is a new and s 
)ral law.* 

To this obsctire period is due the composition of the 
Is. ; No subject in church history is more diEBcuIt. It v 
pear, however, that at an early period, not now defii 
be fixed, a collection of the saymgs of Christ was m dt 
in. Probably not far from 75-80, and according to 
d credible tradition at Rome, Mark's Gospel came 
iatence. Its arrangement was not purely historic, the ! 
n of the materials being determined evidently by tb 
rtance attached to the doctrines and ecdesiastical ti 
deh they illustrated. With large use of the collectit 
ICUmtnl,!; Ra>.2'»-'*; 7"-". *J(maV*;V"* 


nown as 1 Peter (3"^). Clement, writing from Rome b 
k>rinthian3, 93-97, also shares it.^ It does not necess 
nply pre-existence. It does not make clear the relationali 
rhrist to God. It had not thought that problem out. 

An obvious distinction soon was apparent. The disc 
ad known Christ in His life on earth. They now knew 
y His gifts in His exaltation. They had known Him 
je flesh; they now knew Him aitet the spirit' — ^that 
le Jesus of history and the Christ of experience. To si 
cial consideration, at least, these two aspects were not ea 
djustment. The Jesus of history liv^ in a definite : 
nder himian conditions of space and time. The Chri 
(perience is Lord of all His servants, b manifested ai 
pint at the same moment in places the most diverse, is 
ipresent and omniscient. Paul regards it as a mark o{,C 
anity that men call upon Him everywhere.* He prays to 
imself.* In his most solemn asseveration that his apt 
lip is not of any human ori^, Paul classes God and C 
)gether as its source.' Iliese attributes and powers o 
'hrist of experience are very Uke divine, it is evident ; and 
levitably raised the question of Christ's relation to the Fi 
i it had not been raised thus far, and in a mind of far sv 
owers and greater training and educadon than that of ai 
le earlier disciples, that of Paul. 

Paul knew Hebrew theology well, with its conception o 
ivine "wisdom" as present with God before the found 
F the world.' He also knew something of Stoicism, wil 
Qctrine of the universal, omnipresent, fashioning divin 
Jligence, the Logos, that in many ways resembled the 
rew wisdom. He knew the Isaian conception of the si 
ig servant. To Paul, therefore, the identificadon ol 
calted Christ with the divine wisdom — Logos — ^was iiot 
lay, but natural; and that wisdom— Logos — must be 
dstent and always with God. He is "the Snirit of G< 
le "wisdom of God."* "In Him dwelleth air the fuln< 
le Godhead bodily." ' Even more, as in the Stoic conce 
F the Logos, He is the divine agent in creation; "all t 
ave been created through Him and unto Him."'" Though 

> 1 Clement, la. * Roman* V. K ■ 1 Cor. 1>. 

• 2 Cor. 12». •• ' Oat. 1'. • Prov. B"- ", 

'ICor. 2».'>. '/Wd., 1". 'Cot 2'. "Cot 


probably never in set terms called Christ God,* lie taugh 
Christ's uflity-in ^aracter wltii God. He "kBewiie6ia";.'_.Hi 
is the full manifcstirtien of- the love- of God, which is greatei 
than any human love, and the motive spring of the Christiai 
life m us.» It is plain, therefore, that though Paul often call: 
Christ man, he gives Him an absolutely unique position, am 
classes Him with God. 

If the Christ of experience was thus pre-existent and post 
existent in glory for Paul, how explain the Jesus of history! 
He was the steering servant.* His humble obedience wa: 
followed, as in the earlier Petrine conception, by the grea' 
reward. "Wherefore also God highly exalted Him and gav< 
unto Him the name which is above every name . . . tha 
every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." Pau 
looks upon the whole earthly life of Jesus as one of humilia 
tion. It was indeed significant. "God was in Christ recon 
ciling the world unto Himself." * Yet it was only "by thi 
resurrection" that He was "declared to be the Son of Go( 
with power." • Paul's Christology combines, therefore, in i 
remarkable manner, Hebrew and Gentile conceptions. In i 
appear the suffering and exalted servant, the pre-existen 
divine wisdom, the divine agent in creation, and the redeeme 
power who for man's sake came down from heaven, died, ant 
rose ^ain. 

Widiin h^ a generation of Paul's death, however, a differ 
ing interpretation appeared, probably representing an inde 
pendent line of thought. It was that of the Gospel of Mark 
The writer knew nothing of Paul's view of Christ's pre-existence 
In his thought, Christ was from His baptism the Sou of Go< 
by adoption.' That He was the Son of God thenceforth, ii 
all His earthly lot, is the evangelist's endeavor to show 
There was humiliation, indeed, but there was a glory also ii 
His earthly life, of which Paul ^ves no hint. He had not t 
wait for the demonstration of the resurrection. The voio 
from heaven declared Him the Son at baptism. The mai 
with an unclean spirit saluted Him at His first preaching a 
"the Holy One of God" (1"). The spirits of those p 

■ The tnnriations, which imply that, in Bomatu 9* and Titut 3>*, an fo 
various rcHoaa to be rejected u Paulme. 

' 2 Cor. 6". • Romant 8", 6'- •; G<U. 2» * PhUippiana 2"i. 

» 2 Cor. P*. • Romans V. ' Mark !•■". 


cried, "Thou art the Son of God" (3'^. I 
before Peter, James, and John, while a h 
claims: "This is my beloved Son" (9^"*). 
only explain the lack of universal recogniti 
time on earth by the declaration that He ( 
disciples not to make Him known (c. g. 1**, 
evident that this is a very different interp 
of Paul. 

Mark's view was evidently unsa^actoi 
It had no real theory of the incarnation, 
back the sonship far enough. If that sons 
in a portion of Christ's life, why not in all I 
pressed the writers of the next two Gospels, 
Like Mark, they have no trace of Paul's d( 
ence — thdr authors did not move in Paul's 
osophical realm. But they make the manif 
divine sonship date from the very incept 
existence. He was of supematuri^ birth, 
regard His life as other than one of humilii 

Yet for minds steeped in the thoughts i 
could not be satisfying interpretations. A 
peared about 95-1 10, probably in Ephesus, 
favor, not only on account of its profoun 
pretation of the meaning of Christ, but bi 
In one harmonious presentation the dividi 
Christologies which had thus far been cutr 
which bears the name of John, the pre-exi 
Eictivity of Christ is as fully taught as by I 
Logos, the Word who "was with God, a 
God"; ^All things were made by Him" ( 
hint of virgin birth, as in Matthew and Luke 
unexplained, incarnation is taught: "The ' 
and dwelt among us" (I"). The tendency 
pels to behold glory, as well as humiliarion, 
life is carried much further. That life i 
which He "manifested His glory" (2", see 
to tiie woman of Samaria that He is the M 
K^^arded as "making Himself fequal with G 
members the glory of His pre-existence 
through life triumphantly conscious of Hi 
sion. In the account of the Garden of G< 


bty had its rise in a region, Epbesus, where Paul long 
td. Its position is Pauline, but developed in the direc- 
if a much infenser mysticism. This mysticism centits 
the thoughts of life and union with Christ, both <^ 
: are Pauline, and yet treated in a way unlike that of 

Ijfe is the great word of the Johanniue literature. I 
[to knows the Christ of present experience has l^e. '"Hiis j 

eternal, that they should tnow.Thee, tSt only true God, | 
Jim whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ."' F« [ 
riter, the world ia divisible into two simple classes: "He i 
iiath the Son hath the life, he that hath not the Son of 
liath not the life." * By life, the author does not mean 
i existence. To him it is blessed, purified immortality. 
7 are we children of God, and it is not yet made jna&i- 
hat we shall be. We know that if He shall be manifested 
all be like Him." ' This life is based on unipn with Christ, 
his union is a real sacramental participation. One can 
«1 that there is here the influence of ideas ^milar to those 
: mystery religions. Paul had valued the Lord's Supper. 
\a it was a "communion" of the body and blood of Christ, 
•membrance" of Christ, through which: "Ye proclaim 
«rd's death till He come."* The Johannine literature 
'urther: "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man -and 

His blood ye have not life in yourselves." ' The Lord's 
:r is already a mystical sacrament neoeasary for that 

with Christ which b to procure a blessed immortality. 
i Johannine literature stands on a spiritual plane of ut- 
loftiness. It is instructive to see how some of these prob- 
looked to a contemporary. of the same general school, 
ually earnest Christian, but of far less spiritual elevation, 
a man is Ignatius of Antioch. Condemned as a Christian 

home city, in the last years of Trajan, 110-117, he was 
I prisoner to Rome to be thrown to the wild beasts. 01 
story httle is known, but from his pen seven brief letters 
six of them written to the churches of Ephesus, Magnesis, 
ts, Rome, Philadelphia, and Smyrna ; and one a personal 
» Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna. They are full of gratitude 
ndnesses shown on his journey, of warnings against spin- 
in 17'; see also 3". ", 6", 10". •», etc. 
'oAn S" ; compare John 3". ' 1 John 3*. 

lor. 10", 11"". '/oABe**. 


tual perils, and of exhortation 
for the history of Christian ini 
Section IX. Ignatius has the 
Johannine literature. Christ': 
God."^ Be greets the Romai 
Yet he did not identify Christ 
is truly of the race of David ac 
God by the divine will and p 
literature, Ignatius held union 
" Christ Jesus, apart from whoi 
tliat life is ministered through t 
tion of the Supper was, howevi 
of it: "Breaking one bread w] 
tality and the antidote that we 
in Jesus Christ." * Ignatius's : 
the incarnation was the manif< 
tion of a new humanity. Befc 
the devil and death. Christ b 
In the Johannine and the Ig 
was life, in the sense of the tra 
into blessed immortality. Thi 
teaching. Through the school 
became, in the Greek-speaking 
vation. It was one that lays : 
son of Christ and the incamat 
will be seen, was that salvatio 
of right relations with God anc 
too, had its Pauline aatecedei 
weight on divme grace, the d^t 
These conceptions are not mi 
differences of emphasis is ultim 
in the later theological develop: 



By the year 100 ChristianU 
Asia Minor, Syria, Macedonia, 
biy also in Egypt, though rega 

igpfc. 1. *Smjf. 

*Bph.20. *EjA. 


land there is no certain knowledge. It had extended very 
slightly, if at all, to the more western portion of the empire. 
Asia Minor was more extensively Christianized than any other 
land. About 111-113 Pliny, the governor of Bithynia, could 
report to Trajan that it was affecting the older temple worship.^ 
It was strongly missionary in spirit, and constantly extending. 
Conmion Christianity, however, was far from representing, 
or even imderstanding, the lofty theology of Paul or of the 
Johannine literature. It moved in a much simpler range of 
thought. Profoundly loyal to Christ, it conceived of Him 
primarily as the divipe revealer of the knowledge of the true 
God, and the prodaimer of a ''new law'' of sin^ple, lofty, and 
strenuous morality. This is the attitude of the so-called 
"Apostolic Fathers,*' with the exception of Ignatius, whose 
thought has already been discussed. 

These Christian writers were thus named because it was 
long, though erroneously, believed tijmt they were personal dis- 
Qfil^ of ii^ Apostles. They include "Clement of Rome (c. 93- 
975*) Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110-117) ; Polycarp of Smyrna 
(c. 110-117); Hennas of Rome (c. 115-140); the author who 
wrote under the name of «^amabas, possibly in Alexandria 
^(c. 131); and tiie anonymous sermon called Second ClemerU 
(c. 160-170). ^'To this literature should be added the Teaching 
of the Twelve Apostles (c. 130-160, but presenting a survival 
of very primitive conditions). The anonymous Epistle to Dir 
ognetus, often included among the writings of the Apostolic Fa- 
thers, is probably later than their period. 

Christians looked upon themselves as a separated people, 
a new race, the true Israel, whose citizenship was no longer 
in the Roman Empire, though they prayed for its welfare and 
that of its ruler, but in the heavenly Jerusalem.' They are 
the church "which was created before the sun and moon," 
"and for her sake the world was framed."' The conception of 
the church was not primarily that of the aggregate of Chris- 
tians on earth, but of a heavenly citizenship reaching down 
to earth, and gathering into its own embrace the scattered 
Christian communities.^ To this church the disciple is ad- 
mitted by baptism. It is "builded upon waters."^ That 

1 Letters, 10*< ; Ayer, p. 20. * 1 Clem., 61 ; Hennas, Sim.^ L 

* Hennas, VU., 2« ; 2 Clem,, 14. « Teaching, 9. 

• Hennas, Vis., 3'. 



baptism implied antecedent belief in the truth of the Christian 
message, engagement to live the Christian life, and repentance.^ 
Services were held on Sunday, and probably on other days.^ 
These had consisted from the Apostles' time of two kinds: 
meetings for reading the Scriptures, preaching, song and 
prayer;' and a conunon evening meal with which the Lord's 
Supper was conjoined. By the time Justin Mart3rr wrote his 
Apdogy in Rome (153), the common meal had disappeared, 
and the Supper was joined with the assembly for preaching, 
as a concluding sacrament.^ The Supper was the occasion for 
offerings for the needy.^ The beginnings of liturgical forms 
are to be found before the close of the first century/ 

Christian life was ascetic and legalistic. Wednesday and 
Friday were fasts, which were called '^stations," as of soldiers 
of Christ on guard.^ The Lord's Prayer was repeated thrice 
daily.* '^Fasting is better than prayer, but almsgiving than 
both."* Second marriage was discouraged.^* Simple repent- 
ance is not sufficient for forgiveness, there must be satisfaction.^^ 
A Qujstian can even do more than God demands — works of 
;3dpererogation — and will receive a corresponding reward." 
^Gfeat-gefierosity was exercised toward the poor, widows, and 
orphans, some going so far as to sell themselves into slavery 
to supply the needy.^' The rich were felt to be rewarded and 
helped by the prayers of the poor." Wealthy congregations 
redeemed prisoners and sent relief to a distance, and in these 
works none was more eminent than that of Rome. On the 
other hand, though slaves were regarded as Christian brethren, 
their manumission was discouraged lest, lacking support, they 
fall into evil ways.^* There is evidence, also, that the more 
well-to-do and higher stationed found the ideal of brotherhood 
difficult to maintain in practice.^* 

For Christians of heathen antecedents it was difficult to 
deny the existence of the old gods. They were very real to 

* Justin, Apology, 61 ; Ayer, p. 33. ' Justin, ibid,, 67 ; Ayer, p. 35. 

* Justin, Urid,, 67 ; see also Pliny, LeUera, 10** ; Ayer, pp. 21, 35. 

* 65, 67 ; Ayer, pp. 33-35. • Justin, ibid,, 67. 
' 1 Clem., 59-61, see also Teaching, 9, 10; Ayer, pp. 38, 39. 

' Teaching, 8 ; Hermas, Sim., 5^ ; Ayer, p. 38. 

* Teaching, 8 ; Ayer, p. 38. •2 Clem,, 16. » Hermas, Mand., 4*. 
n Ibid,, 8im„ 7. " Ibid., Sim., 6«. « ; Ayer, p. 48. 

» 1 Clem., 65. " Hermafl, Sim,, 2, 

» Jgnatiua to Pdycarp, 4. " Hennas, Sim,, 9*°. 


them, but were looked upon as demons, hostile to Christianity.' 
The Christians of the second century explwned the resemblatice 
between their own rites and those of the myateiy reli^oiu, 
of which they were aware, as a parody by demons.* Fear, 
thus of demon influence was characteristic, and led to much 
use of exorcism in the name of Christ.* For all men there is 
to be a resurrection of the fiesh, and a final judgment.* 


No question in church history has been more darkened by 
controversy than that of the origin and development of church 
officers, and none is more difficult, owing to tiie scantinesi 
the evidence that has survived. It is probable that the 
velopment was diverse in different localities. Not all o 
Christian congregations had identical institutions at the si 
time. Yet a sub stantial simila rity was reac hed by the mic 
of the second century . Somethmg has already been aak 
the constitution of the Jewish Christian congregations.* ' 
present discussion has to do with those on (Jentile soil. 
* TTie earliest Gentile churches had no officers in the st 
- sense. Paul'sletterstotheGalatians, Corinthians, and Roti 
'i make no mention of local officers. Those to the Corintfai 
could hardly have avoided some allusion, had such officers 
isted. Their nearest approach* is only an exhortation to 
in subjection to such as Stephanas, and does not imply tha 
held office. The allusion in 1 Tkesa. 5" to those that " 
over you in the Lord" is, at best, very obscure. Paul's eai 
■ episdes show that all ministries in the church, of whatt 
sort, werejooIsEd. upon .aa the direct gift of.theSpifi^i who 
■spires each severally for the service of the congregation.' 
is fur to conclude that these bearers of the gifts of the S] 
might be different at different times, and many in the c^t 
might equally become vehicles of the charismatic inspirat 
Paul^owever, spedfies three classes of leaders as in partic 
the at of the Spirit — Aposties, prophete, teachers.' He 1 
self regarded his Api)3toIate~S3 ch^T^atic' iTthe Apos' 
work was primarily that of founding Christian churches, tl 

Justin, Apdogv, 5. 

» Ibid., 62. 

> Ibid., DiabgM, 85. 

2 Clem., g, 16. 

»j4nte, p. 23. 

• 1 Cor. Ifl". » 

1 Cor. 12"". "-», 14"-". 

■ 1 Cor. 12". 

•Gal.!'."-"; I Cor. 


eta and teachers by whom worship could be con- 
id the congregation led was certainly a cause in some 
rhe Teaching qf the Twelve Apo9tU» directs: "Ap- 

yourselves, therefore, bishops and deacons worthy 
rd, men who are meek and not lovers of money, and 
approved ; for unto you they also perform the service 
"ophets and teachers. Therefore despise them not; 
ire your honorable men along with the prophets and 

(15). At Fhilippi, Ephesus, and in die Teaching, 
shops" are spoken of in the plural. This is also true 

and of Corinth when Clement of Rome wrote in 
Clement speaks, also, of those against whom the 
1 Cormth had rebelled as its "appointed presby- 
) ; and of "those who have offered the gifts of the 
office" as presbyters (44). Polycarp of Smyrna, 
Philippi in 110-117, mentions only presbyters and 
md their duties. Hennas, 115-140, would seem to 
it as late as his time there was this collegiate office at 
[t is "the elders (presbyters) that preside over the 
* He speaks only of ^e duties of "deacons" and 
" a 

t interpretation, such as that of Jerome, saw in these 
bishops and presbyters the same persons, the names 
ed interchangeably. That is the opinion of most 
K^iolars, and seems the probable concludon. The 
the late Edwin Hatch, as developed by Hamack, 
wever, that presbyters were the older brethren in the 
ion, from whom the collegiate bishops were taken, 
would be a presbyter, but a presbyter not necessarily 
The subject is one of difficulty, the more so as the 
resbyter," like the English "elder" is used in early 
literature both as a general designation of the aged, 
technical expression. Its particular meaning is hard 
> distinguish. It is evident, however, that till some 
r the year 100, Rome, Greece, and Macedonia had at 
of each congregation a group of collegiate bishops, 
-ter-bishops, with a number of deacons as their help- 
(se were chosen by the church,* or at least "with the 
if the whole church." ' 
, 42, 44. • Vu., 2*. *Sim., V*- ". 

m, 15; Ayer, p. 41. • 1 CUm., 44; Ay», p. 37. 


Q How the. monarchical bishopric arose is a matter of conjee- 
: I ture. Reasons that have been advanced by modem scholars 
' 1 are leadership in worship and the financial oversight of the 
1 1 congregation in the care of the poor and other obligations of 
charity. These are probable, the first-named perhaps the more 
probable. It is suffident to observe, however, that leadership 
of a congregation by a committee of equals is miworkable for 
I any protracted time. Some one is sure to be given headship. 
One further observation of great importance is to be made. 
Clement of Rome (93-97), writing when Rome had as yet no 
monarchical bishop, traces the existence of church officers to 
apostolical succession.^ It is no impeachment of the finnness 
of his conviction, though it militates against the historic ac- 
curacy of hb view, that he apparently bases it on a misunder- 
standing of Paul's statement in 1 Cor. 1&^' ^K On the other 
hand, Ignatius, though urging in the strongest terms the value 
of the monardbical episcopate as the bond of unity, knows 
nothing of an apostolical succession. It was the union of these 
two principles, a monarchical bishop in apostolical succession, 
which occurred before the middle of the second century, that 
immensely enhanced the dignity and power of the bi^opric. 
j } ; By the .sixth dficadfij)f the second century monarchical bishops 
!j.i had become well-nigh universaT * The institution was to gain 
further strength in the Gnostic and Montanist struggles; but 
may be doubted whether anything less rigid could have car- 
' ^ ried the church through the crises of the second century. 



Christianity was at first regarded by the Roman authorities 
as a branch of Judaism, which stood under legal protection.* 
The hostility of the Jews themselves must have made a dis- 
tinction soon evident, and by the time of the Neronian persecu- 
tion in Rome (64) it was plainly drawn. The Roman victims 
were not then charged, however, primarily with Christianity, 
but with arson — ^though their impopularity with the multitude 
made them ready objects of suspicion. By the time that 
1 Peter was written (c. 90), the mere fact of a Christian profes- 
sion had become a cause for punishment (4^^). How much 

U Cor. 42, 44 ; Ayer, pp. 36, 37. « Acta W^: 



earlier ** the name^' had become a sufficient crimi nal cha^ it 
is impossible to say. Trajan's reply to I'imy, the governor of 
Bithynia (lll-llS), presupposes that Christianity was already 
viewed as criminal. That already recognized, the Emperor 
orders what must be deemed mild procedure from his point of 
view. Christians are not to be hunted out, and, if willing to 
abjure by sacrifice, are to be acquitted. Only in case of per- 
sis tgice a re they to be pimbhed.^ From the standpoint of a 
f ahEhil Christian profession this was a test which could only be 
met by martyrdom. Trajan's immediate successors, Hadrian 
(117-138), and Antoninus Pius (138r-161) pursued the same 
general policy, though discouraging mob accusations. Marcus 
Aureliu s (161-180) gave renewed force to the law against stomge 
religimis (176), and initiated a sharper period of persecution 
which extended into the beginning of the reign of Commodus 
(180-192). Conmiodus, however, treated Christianity, on the 
whole, with the toleration of indifference. Always illegal, an d 
with extreme pe nal ties hangmg over it, the Christian profession 
involved constant penl for its adherents ; yet the number of 
actual martyrs in this period appears to have been relatively 
giall compared with ti^oaeLoLlhe tM rd and fourtii centuries. 

^lon occurred before 2 50^ j 

The charges brought against the Christians were atheismf, 
and anarchy.* Their rejection of the old gods seemed atheism ;' 
theurrefusal to join in emperor-worship appeared treasonable.'* 
Popular credulity, made possible by the degree to which the 
Christians held aloof from ordinary civil society, charged them 
with crimes as revolting as they were preposterous. A mis- 
understanding of the Christian doctrine of .Christ's presence 
in the Supper must beseemed the occasion of the common 

accusation oy ca.nnib'alisml an d its celebration secretiy in the 
evening of that of ]ppggi licentiousness.^J Much of the govern- 
ttental persecution of C hristianity uTHus period tiaJlfs incite- 
menx m mob attack s upo n 'CEHs tians. '^al was the case at 
&n}ma when I'olycarp'sulfered martyrdom in 156; while a 
boycott, on the basis of charges of immoral actions, was the 
inunediate occasion of the fierce persecution in Lyons and 
Vienne in 177.' It is not surprising, therefore, that the major- 

1 Fliny's Letiera 10^ ; Ayer, p. 22. > Justin, Apology, 5, 6 ; 11, 12. 
* Martyrdom of Polycarp, 3, 8-10. * Justin, Dialogue, 10. 
< Eiwehiufl, Chwch HisUny, 6*. 


ity of judiciaJ proceedmga against Christians in thb peria! 
seem rattier to have been under the general police p< 
magistrates to repress dbturbance than by formal trial 
specific criminal charge of Cfarisdanity. Both procedi 
to be found. To all these accusations the best answei 
Christians was their heroic constancy in loyalty to Chi 
their superior morality as judged by the standards of 
about them. 


These charges against Christians, and the hostile atti 
the Roman government, aroused a number of literary de! 
who are known as the Apologists. Their appearance 
that Chrbtianity was making some conquest of the d 
tellectual elements of society. Thnr appeal is distic 
intelligence. Of these Apologists the first was Quf 
probably of Athens, who about 1 25 presented a defense 
tianity, now preserved only in htigments, to the £ 
Hadrian. Aristides, an Athenian Christian philosophei 
a similar t^peal, about 140, to Antoninus Pius. Justii 
the most famous of these defenses, probably in Home 
153. His disciple, Tatian, who combined the four ' 
into his famous Diaieaaaron, also belonged to the Apt 
With them are t«*-be nsckoned Melito, bishop of Sard 
wrote between 169 and ISO ; and Athenagoras, of who 
is known personally, whose defense, which survives, wa 
dbout the year 177. Here also belongs the Epistle to Di 
"often reckoned amongllm writuigg"Dfthe Apostolic F« 

There is no evidence that any of these Apologists 
influenced heathen opinion, or that their appeal was s 
con^dered by the rulers whom it was their desire to p« 
Their work was deservedly valued in Christian circles, h 
and undoubtedly strengthened Christian conviction 
nobility of the cause so earnestly defended. Several 
Apolc^sts were from the ranks of the philosophers, ai 
philosophical interpretation aided in the development 
ology. The most significant was Justin, and he may we 
as typical of the whole movement. 

Justin, called the Martyr, from his heroic witness unl 
in Rome under the prefect Rusticus, about 165, waa 
Shechem, in the ancdent Samaria, of heathen ancest 


Eved, for a time at least, in Ephesus, and it was m its vicinity 
probably that the conversion of which he gives a vivid account 
took plaoe.^ An eager student of philosophy, he accepted suc- 
cessively Stoicism, Aristotelianism, Pythagoreanism, and Pla- 
toDiam. While a Platonist his attention was directed to the 
Hebrew prophets, ''men more ancient than all those who are 
esteemed philosophers." Theirs is the oldest and truest ex- 
planation ''of the beginning and end of things and of those 
matters which the philosopher ought to know,'' dnce they were 
"filled with the holy Spirit/' "They glorified the Creator, 
the God and Father of all things, and prodwned His Son, the 
Christ" By his newly acquired conviction of the truth of 
thdr ancient prophetic message, Justin says: "straightway a 
flame was kindled in my soul ; and a love of the prophets and 
of those men who are friends of Christ • • • I found this 
phiksophy alone to be safe and profitable." These quotations 
show the character of Justin's rdigious experience. It was not- 
a inbound and mystical union with a risen Lord, as with 
PauL It was not a sense of forgiveness of sin. It was a con- 
riction that in Christianity is the oldest, truest, and most 
divine of philosophies. Justin continued to look upon himself 
as a philosopher. He made his home in Rome and there 
wrote, about 153, his Apology, addressed to the Emperor 
Antoninus Pius and that soverogn's adopted sons, d^end- 
ing Christianity from governmental antagonism and heathen 
criticisms. A little later, perhaps on a visit to Ephesus, he 
composed his Dialogtie with Trypho, similarly presenting the 
Chnistian case against Jewish objections. A second sojourn 
b Rome brought him to a martyr's death. 

Justin's Apology (often called two Apologies, though the 
"second" is only an appendix) is a manly, dignified^ and effec- 
tive defense. Christians, if condenmed at all, shotdd be pun- 
shed for definite proved crimes, not for the mere name without 
bvestigation of dieir real character. They are atheists only 
hi that they count the popular gods demons unworthy of 
worship, not in respect to the true God. They are anarchists 
#Dly to those who do not understand the nature of the kingdom 
that they seek. Justin then argues the truth of Christianity, 
especially from the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy, and 
knefly explains Christian sacraments and worship. 

^ Dialogue, 2-S. 


As a theologian, Justin's convictions were the result of his 
own experience. His central belief was that Christianity was 
-. the truest of philosophies, because taught by the prophets of 
' the Old Testament, and by the divine Logos "our Teacher 
• . . who is both Son and Apostle of God the Father." * This 
divine Logos he conceives, in true Stoic fashion, as everywhere 
and always at work, teaching the Greeks, of whom he cites 
Socrates and Heraclitus, and the ^barbarians,'' such as Abra- 
' btai, so that these, and all who at any time obeyed the same 
' guidance were really Christians.* His great advance on Stoi- 
v^' , rism is his conviction that .this all-illuminating divine Logos 
' became definitely incarnate in Christ, so that in Him is the 
full revelation of that which elsewhere is less distinctly seen. 
The contei^t of the Christian message Justin conceives in terms 
very similar to those of the best contemporary heathen phi- 
losophy — ^knowledge of God, morality, the hope of immortality, 
and future rewards and punishments. Like common non- 
Faulme Christianity, he views the Gospel as a new law, teaching 
a somewhat ascetic moral life. Justin's emphasis is on the 
divine Logos, subordinate to God the Father, yet His Son, 
His agent, and one with Him in some true, though rather in- 
definite, sense. This emphasis is really at the expense of the 
historic Jesus, for though both are identified, the earthly life 
of Jesus has little interest for Justin save as the great historii; 
umance of the incarnation of the Logos, and therefore the 
occasion on which the divine philosophy was most fully re* 
vealkd. He does, indeed, speak of Christ's '^ cleansing by His 
blood those who believe on Him" ;' but such thoughts are not 
primary. Hence the theology of Justin, faithful martyr thougb 
he was, ^^ essentially rationalizing, with little of the pro- 
foundly riVgi<>us content so conspicuous in Paul, the Johannine 
literature, or even in Ignatius. It marks, however, a conscious 
union of Christian thought with the Gentil% philosophy^ ajad 
therefore the beginnings of a '* scientific" tbtolQgy. 

^Apology, 12. *Ibid., 46; Ayer, p. 72. •/McL, 82. 



The later New Testament literature, and at least one of tb 
Apostolic Fathers, strongly combat conceptions of Chrif 
which it is evident must have been widely prevalent, especiall 
in Aaa Minor, in the opening years of the second centurj 
These views denied Hb real humanity and His actual deatl 
He bad not come "in the flesh," but: in ghost-like, Doceti 
appearance.^ These opinions, have generally been regarded s 
the beginnings of Gnosticism. It is true that this Pocsti 
conception of Christ was a feature et much Gnostic teachinf 
It ia more probable, however, that these early teachings wei 
more largeb' based on an attempt to explain a seeming contn 
diction between the Jesus of tustoiy and the Christ of experi 
ence, than on pur^ Gnostic speculations. That earthly 111 
of humiliation was so contrasted with Hb pre-exbtent and post 
existent glory, that the simplest solution of the Christologia 
problem may well have seemed to some the denial of the realit 
of Hb earthly life altogether. Christ did, indeed, appeal 
He taught Hb disciples; but all the time as a heavenly beim 
not one of flesh and blood . 

'fTP'J9ti'''i""T pr"p*Tiv Bp^ftlntifT, was something mudi moi 
far-reaching. The height of its influence was from about 13 
-to 160, though it continued a force long after the latter dab 
It thi gttened t o overwhelm the historic Christian faith, and b 
so doing brought upon the Christian Church its gravest cria 
sitice the Pauline battle for freedom from law. Its spread an 
consequent peril were made possible by the relatively weakl 
- organized, and doctrinally undefined state of the church at h 
b^ixming. The church overcame the danger; but at the cot 
of the . development of a rigidity of organization, creed, an 
government which rendered the condition of the church e 
■ 1 Jalta V^, 2**, 4'' ■; Ignatioa, TraUimu, 9-11 ; Smgrn., 1-0. 


he dose of the second century a striking contrast to 
ts be^nning.^ 

Gnostidam professed to be based on "knowledge" (' 
>ut not as that word ia now commonly understood. lb 
dge was ^ways a mystical, supernatural wisdom, by w! 
litiatea were brought to a true imderstanding of the u 
nd were saved from this evil world of matter. It hat 
lamental doctrine of salvation. In these respects it v 
the mystery religions. Its most prominent cbarat 
lowever, was its sj^creUain. It took unto it.<plf tgany ' 
rom many sourceaVand assumed numy fonq a . Itis, tl 
mpossible to speaic ot a smgle type of Unostidsm. 
prevailingly mystica l, mayca l, or philwophic^ accoi 
he dominant admixture m lis syncretism^ S nostid 
iTf-fhriitfiaTi in its origin, and was in existence befori 
ianity came into the world. There were Jewish and~ 
ypes. It'is represeiitEd-imhe Hermetic literature ol 
t had astral dements w|(Ich may be traced back to Bal 
eli^ous conceptions, a dualistic view of the univer 
tan in origin, and a doctrine of emanations from Go< 
pleroma" or realm of ^irit, which was probably Ej 
^haps its moat-ftmdarae&tal conception, the whc 
haracter of the phenomenal world, was due to a comi 
if the Platonic theory of the contrast between the real ! 
phere of " ideas," and this visible world of phenomena 
ireted in terms of Persian dualism — the one good and 
rhich man strives to return, the other wholly bad ; 
Jace of his imprisonment. The world of matt er is c 
reator and ruler is not, therffore,T^e"lil^^~g6o(l Uod, 
oferior and imperfect bdi^, the demiurge. Man, to b 
aust be freed horn this bondage to the visible world, 
ulers, the planetary spirits ; and the means o f h ia fre 
'hirT"'"'*^e"" ('YP %'w)j a mystical, spmtual eiJlfthtmn 
he initiated which bnogs him into communion with 
etdm of spiritual re^ties. 

. Strongly oyncretistic already, Gaostidsm found E 
[Ihristianity which it could use. In particular, the I 
!)brist was aq>ecially adapted to f^ve a definite and coDO 
re to itk theory of a higher saving knowledge. He wa 


vealer of the hitherto unknown high and all-perfect God to men. 
By that illumination all "spiritual'* men, who were capable of 
receiving it, would be led back to the realm of the good Grod. 
Since the material world is evil, Christ could not have had 
a real incarnation^ and the Gnostics explained His appearance 
either as Docetic and ghostly, or as a temporary indwelling of * 
the man Jesus, or as an apparent birth from a virgin mother 
without partakmg of material nature. The God of the Old j) ^ ' 
Testament, as the creator of this visible world, cannot be the 
high God whom Christ revealed, but the inferior demiurge. 
That all Christians did not possess the saving ''knowledge,'' ^e 
Gnostics explained by holding it to be a secret teaclung im- 
parted by the Apostles to their more intimate disciples, a speak- 
ing ** wisdom among the perfect.'' ^ It is true that while Paul 
was in no sense a Gnostic, there were many things in Paul's 
teachings of which Gnostics availed themselves. His sharp 
contrast between flesh and spirit;^ his conception of Christ as 
victor over those ''principalities and powers" which are the 
^ world^ rulers of this darlmess,"' and his thought of Christ as 
the Man from Heaven,^ were all ideas which the Gnostics could 
employ. Paul was always to them the chief Apostle, 

Gnosticism was divided into many sects and presented a 
great variety of forms. In all of them the high, good God is 
the head of the spiritual world of light, often called the "ple- 
roma." From that world fragments have become imprisoned 
in this visible world of darkness and evil. In later Gnosticism 
this f aUen element from the pleroma is represented as the lowest 
of a series of seons, or spiritual beings, emanating from the high 
Grod. To rescue this fallen portion, the seeds of light in the • 
visible evil world, nirntxaTnPj bringing the truft "kntrwliHgp "''j 
By His teaching those ccq>able of receiving it are restored to 
the pleroma. They are at best few. Most Gnostics divided 
mankind into "spiritual," capable of salvation, and "material" 
who could not receive the message. Later Gnosticism, es- 
pecially the school of Valentinus, taught a threefold division, 
"spiritual," who done could attain "knowledge" ; "psychical," 
capable of faith, and of a certain degree of salvation ; and " ma- 
terial," who were hopeless. 

Christian tradition represented the founder of Christian 

1 1 Car. 2«. « Ramans 8»-«; 1 Car. 16*». 

» Cd. 2»'; Efh. ^. « I Cor. 16*^ 


Gnosticism to b^u^iQiLMa,gus/ but of his real relations to it 
little is known. More clearly defined leaders are Satomilus 
of Antioch, who labored before 150 ; Basilides^ who taught in 
>^ Alexandria about 130; and, above all, Valenj^uiSH^ho was 
active in Rome from about 135 to 165, and who must be re- 
garded as one of the most gifted thinkers of the age. 
f. Gnosticism was an immense peril for the church. It cut 
. out the historic foundations of Christianity. Its God^ not 
. I the God of the Old T estament, which is the work of an m- 
s ferior*br even evil being. Its Christ had no real .incgirnation, 
J death, or resurrection. JUg. salvation is for the few capaBleof 
;^ spirituiTenligTitenineiit. The peril was the greater ijecause 
I Gnosticism was represented by some of the keenest minds in 
i the church of the second century. The age was syncretistic, 
. I and in some respects Gnosticism was but the fullest accomplish- 
, ment of that amalgamation of Hellenic and Oriental philosophi- 
j cal speculation with primitive Christian beliefs which was in 
I greater or less degree in process in all Christian thinking. 


A special interest attaches to Marcion as one who was the 
/*' first chu£di.xefQUEier.^ Born in Sinope, in Asia Minor, where 
he was a wealthy ship-owner, he came to Rome about 139, and 
joined the Roman congregation, making it a gift for its benevo- 
lent work equivalent to ten thousand dollars. He soon came 
to feel that Christianity was imder the bondage of legalism, 
and, under the light of the Gnostic teaching of Cerdo, he saw 
the root of this evil in acceptance of the Old Testament and 
its God. .Jfever mors than partially a Gno stic, h is prime in- 
terest was in church reform. Salvation, with him, was"bT-rhrht 

faith rather than by knowledge. To Marcion, Paul was the 
only Apostle who had understood the Gospel ; all the rest had 
fallen into the errors of Judaism. The Grod of the Old Testa- 
ment is a just God, in the sense of ''an eye for an eye, and a 
tooth for a tooth." He created the world and gave the Jew- 
ish law. Christ, who was a Docetic manifestation, revealed 
the heretofore unknown good God of mercy. The Grod of the 
Old Testament opposed Him; but in Christ the authority of 
the Jewish law was done away, and the "just God" became U]> 

* Acts 8»-*< ; Irenseus, HeresieSf 1»» ; Ayer, p. 79. 

* See selections, Ayer, pp. 10^105. 


just because of thb unwarranted hostility to the revealer of the 
"good God/' The Old Testament and its God are therefore to^ 
be rejected by Christians. Christ prodaimed a OospcJ TJTlove * 
and of righteousness by faiths though, curiously enough, Marcion 
was extremely ascetic in his conception of the Christian life. 

Marcion's endeavor to call the Roman Church back to what 
he deemed the Grospel of Christ and of Paul resulted in his -] 
own excommunication about 144. He now gathered followers 
into a separated church. For their use he compiled a canon 
of sacred books, composed of the epbtles of Paul (omitting the 
Pastorals), and the Gospel of Luke, shorn of all passages which 
implied that Christ regarded the God of the Old Testament 
as His Father, or was in any way related to Him. As far as 
is known, this was the first attempt to form an authoritative 
collection of New Testament writings. 

Marcion's movement was probably the most dangerous of, 
those associated with Gnosticism. He sundered Christianity- 
from its historic backgroimd as completely as had the more 
si>eculative Gnostic theories. He d^iied a real.i&cuTiation,-^ 
and condemned the Qld.Testampnt and its God. All this was 
the more plausible because done in the name of a protest 
against growing legalism. For such a protest there was much 
justification. His churches spread extensively, in the Orient 
especially, and siundved into the fifth century. His own later 
history is wholly unknown. 


Unlike Gnosticism, Montanjg mwga a m ovement distinctly of 
Christian origin, "innnoaf of the churches of the second cen- 
tury the early hope of the speedy return of Christ was growing 
dim. The consciousness of the constant inspiration of the 
Spirit, characteristic of the Apostolic Churches, had also largely 
faded. With this decluung sense of the immediacy of the Spirit's 
present work came an increasing emphasis on His significance 
a3 the agent of revelation. Paid had identified the Spirit and 
Obrist.^ That was not the general feeling half a century later. 
'Pbe Spirit had been the inspiration of prophecy in die Old 
Testament.* He guided the New Testament writers.' To 

* 2 Cot. 3". 

^E, Q,y 1 Clem, 8, 13, 16; "the prophetic Spirit," Justin, Apology , 13. 

* 1 Clem., 47. 


iiistian thought at the beginning of the second century the 
)ly Spirit was differentiated from Christ, but was classed, 
e ICm, with God. This appears in the Tnnitarian baptisaul 
imula,' which was displacing the older baptism in the name 

Christ* Trinitarian formube were frequently in use by 
e close of the first and beginning of the second centuiy.' 
le Johannine Gospel represented Christ as promising the 
ming of the Holy Spirit to the disciples : " When the Com- 
rter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, 
en the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father, 
J shall hear Witness of Me," (IS"). The second century 
IS convinced, therefore, not only that the Holy Spirit was In 
cutiar association with God the Father and Chi;ist ; but that 
irist had promised the Spirit's coming in nwre abundant 
iasure in Uie future. 

It was this thought of the spedal dispensation of the Holy 
iirit, combined with a fresh outburst of the early prophetic 
thuaasm, and a beUef that the end of the world-age was 
)se at hand, that were represented in Montanism. To a 
nsiderable extent Montanism was, also, a reaction from the 
:ular tendencies already at work in the church. Montanus, 
Ha whom the movement was named, was of Ardabau, near 
e re^on of Asia Minor known as I^irygia — ^long noted for 
I ecstatic type of religion.* A tradition, recorded by J^t>me, 
irmed that, before conversion, he had been a priest of Gy- 
le. About 156 Mfinfpnjjfi pnyliilmwj jumsclf^the pasuve 
rtrumeiil througb whom the Holy Spirit spoke. In this new 
relation Montanus declared thepromise ^"Christ fulfilled, 
d the dispensation of the Holy Spirit begun. To him were 
m joined two prophetesses, Prisca and Maximilla. They 
w a£Brmed, as mouthpieces of the Spirit, that the end of the 
irld was at hand, and that the heavenly Jerusalem was about 

be established in Phrygia, whither believers should betake 
emselves. In preparation for the fast-approaching consum- 
ption the most strenuous asceticism should be practised, 
libacy, fastings, and absrinence from meat. This vigorous 
titude won response as a protest against the growing woridli- 
ss of the diurch at large, and to many was the most attractive 
iture of Montanism. 

'Maa.2»*. Met* 2". ' B. g., 1 Clm. «, BS; IgutiuB, £|A., «. 
'See aeleotuHiB, Aytx, pp. 106-lOB. 



now became a rigid corporate body, having recognized official 
V^ leaders and capable not merely of defining its faith, but of 
shutting out from its communion all who did not accept its 
creed or its officers. As a recent Grerman writer has epitomized 
the change : '' About 50, he was of the church who had received 
baptism and the Holy Spirit and called Jesus, Lord ; about 180, 
he who acknowledged the rule of faith (creed), the New Test&- 
'rl ment canon, and iJbe authority of the bishops/'^ 

In a measure, the beginnings of this great change may be 
seen before the Gnostic and Montanist crises ; but it was tiiose 
struggles that brought it effectively into being. The char%cter- 
istic answer of the Catholic Church to the Gnostics may be seen 
in the argiunent of Iren^us of Lyons.^ Against Gnostic claims 
Irenseus, writing about 185, held that the Apostles did not 
preach before tihey had "perfect knowledge" of the Gospel. 
That preaching they recorded in the Gospels — Matthew and 
Johftf were written by Apostles themselves; while Mark re- 
produced the message of Peter and Luke that of Paul. Nothing 
Gnostic, Irenseus declares, is foimd in any of them. But the 
Gnostic may object that, besides this public apostolic teaching 
in the Gospels, there was a viva voce instruction, a speaking 
"wisdom among the perfect," ' of which Gnosticism was the 
heir. This Irenseus denied. He argued that, had there been 
such private teaching, the Apostles would have intrusted it 
to those, above all others, whom they selected as their suc- 
cessors in the government of the churdies. In these churches 
of apostolic foundation the apostolic teaching had been fully 
preserved, and its transmission had been guaranteed by the 
orderly succession of their bishops. Gro therefore to Rome* 
or to Smyrna, or Ephesus, and learn what is there taught, and 
nothing Gnostic will be found. Every church must agree 
with that of Rome, for there apostolical tradition has been 
faithfully preserved as in other Apostolic Churches. 

It is difficult to see what more effective argmnent Irenseus 
could have advanced in the peculiar situation which con- 
fronted him ; but it was an answer which greatly increased the 
significance of the churches of real or reputed apostolicfd 
foimdation, and of their heads, the bishops. Irenssus went 
further. The church itself is the depository of Christian teach- 

1 Heussi, Kampendium der Kirckengeschichie, p. 44. 

* Heresies, 3:1-4; Ayer, pp. 112-114. » 1 Cor. 2«. 


ing: "Since the Apostles, like a rich man in a bank, lodged in 
her tuuids most copiously all things pertaining to the truth." ^ 
This deposit is especially intrusted to " those who, together with 
the succession of the episcopate, have received the certain gift 
of truth,"* i. e. to the heads of the churches. To agree with 
the bishops is therefore a necessity. This argument was not 
peculiar to Ireneus, it was that of the leaders of Old Catholic 
teaching geaierally. 

While the power of the episcopate and the significance of 
churches of apostolical foundatioii was thus greatly enhanced, ' 
the Gnostic criais saw a corresponding development of creed. 
It least in the West. Some form of instruction before baptism 
was common by the middle of the second century.* At £oine.- 
this developed, apparently, between 150 and 175, and probably 
in opposition to Marclonite Gn;&ticl3in^~uito an explication of 
the baptismal formula of Matt. 28"— the earliest known form . 
of the so-called Apostles'. Cieed- What antecedents in Aaa 
^Qnor, if any, it may have had is still a question in scholarly 
dispute. Witiout symbolic authority in the Orient, all the 
Western churches received this creed from Rome, and it was 
regarded, by the time of Tertullian at least, as having apostolic 
authority, that b as a summary of apostoUc teaching.* In its 
original form it read : 

"I believe in God the Father Almighty ; and in Christ Jesus, t 
His only b^otten Son, our Lord, who was bom of the Holy ! 
Spirit and the Virgin Mary, crucified imder Pontius Pilate and ■ 
buried ; the third day He rose from the dead, ascended into the I 
heavens, being seated at the right hand of the Father, whence 
He shall come to judge the living and the dead ; and in the Holy ' 
Spirit, holy church, forgiveness of sins, resurrection of the 

The development of a canon of New Testament books was, 
also, the work of this period. By the church from the begin- 
ning the Old Testament was reckoned as Scripture. The Gos- 
pels and the letters of Paul were donbtJess highly valued, but 
they did not, at first, have Scriptural authority. Clement of 
Rome (93-97), though constant^ quoting the Old Testament 
as the utterance of God, was very free in his use of the words 
of the New Testament, and nowhere styled them divine. 

' HertMet, 3:4'. • Ihid., 4 : 26". 

■JustiD, Apolagu, SI. * PTeaeription, 13, 30. 


le eftriiest designation of a passage from the Gosp^ is 
cripture" was about 131, by the so-called Barnabas,' and of 
luotation from Paul about 110-117, by Polycarp.' By the 
»e of Justin (153), the Gospels were read in the services id 
ime, together with the Old Testament prophets.* The proc- 
: by which the New Testament writings came to Scriptural 
thority seaus to have been one of analogy. The Old Tes te- 
ot was sverywfaere regarded as divinely authoritative 
iristians could think no leas of their own f undam^U trf^ajoks. - 
" lygtifin wnq nt) open onc, however, as to whi di were t he 
'"r'"fl! ttHtIqc" Works llkcHeruiUM Ulld Barnaoas were 
A in churches. An authoritative list was desirable. Mar- 
n had prepared such a canon for his followers. A ^milar 
imeration was gradually formed, probably in Rome, by the 
tholic party. Apparently the Gospels were the first to gain 
nplete recognition, then the letters of Paul. By about 200, 
»rding to the witness of the Muratorian fragment. Western 
xistendom had a New Testament canon embracing Matthea, 
irk, Luke, John, Acts, I and 2 Coritiikiana, Epkenaru, Phil- 
riaru, Coloatiant, Galatiaru, 1 and 2 Thessaloniatu, Ihmam, 
ilemon, Titus, 1 and 2 Timothy, Jude, 1 and 2 John, Rada- 
rt, and the so-called Apocalyyse of Peter.* ^" thfi O"'""*' ♦'■■' 
rd(qMaeot.of a canon was not quite so rapid. Certain books, 
e Hdtrewa and ReselatiMi were disputed. The whole process 
canonical development into its precise present form was not 
npleted in the West till 400, and in the East till even later. 
3y the year 200 the church of the western portion of the 
pire had, therefore, an authoritative collection of New 
stament books, in the main like our own, to which to appeal, 
e East was not much behind. The fonnatioa <^ the-canon 
s essentially a process of selection from Uie whole mass o( 
ristian literature, made originally by no council, but jw th e 
ce of Christian opinion — the criterion being that the books 
^pted were believe^to be either the work of an Apostle 
of the immediate disciple of an Apostle, and thus to rep- 
ent apostolic teaching. 

Hus out of the struggle with Gnostidsm and Montanism 
ne the Old Catholic Church, with its strong episcopal organ- 
tion, credal standard, and authoritative canon. It differed 
Bam., 4. • PhU. 12. 

Apologv, 66, 67. *Ayer, pp. 117-120. 


much from the Apostolic Church; but it had preserved historic 
Christianity and carried it through a tremendous crisis. It 
may be doubted whether a less rigid organization than thaf 
developed in this momentous second half of the second cen- 
tury could have achieved as much. 


The Roman Church had been of prominence since the time 
of Paul. To it that Apostle wrote his most noteworthy letter. 
At Rome Paul, and probably Peter, died. The church endured 
flre se»cniat-of astt^ peiseuutiuus uuderNero, and survived in 
vigor. Situated in the capital of the empire, it early devel- 
oped a consdousness of strength and authority, wMch was 
doubtless increased by the fact that, by 100, it was, it would 
appear, the largest smgle congregation in Christendom. Even 
before the close of the first cehtnTydefnentTTRlting anony- 
mous to the Corinthians in the name of the whole Roman 
congregation (93-97), spoke as for those who expected to be 
obeyed.^ The tone, if brotherly, was big-brotherly. This 
influence was increased by the well-known generosity ofthe 
Roman congreya tion.* Ignatius adSieSsed It &d "havmg the 
presidency of love."' The destruction of Jerusalem in the 
second Jewish war (135) ended any possible leadership of Chris- 
tianity that might there have been asserted. The successful 
resistance to Gnosticism and Montanism strengthened it; and 
it reaped in abundance the fruits of that struggle. There the 
creed was formulated, there the canon formed. Above all, it 
was advantaged by the appeal of the opponents of Gnosticism 
to the tradition of the Apostolic churdies, for Rome was the 
only church in the western half of the empire wi£h which 
Aposdes had bad anytbbg to do. Iren£eus of Lyons, writing 
about 185, represent«l the general Westera feeling of his time, 
when he not only pictures the Roman Church as founded by '' 
Peter and Paul, but declarts " it is a matter of necessity that I 
every chim^ should agree with this church." ' It was lead-' 
ership in the preswation of the apostolic faith, not juditual 
sapreaoacy, that Ireneetis had in mind ; but with Stich Mtimates 

> 1 CUm., 69, 68. 

iBuMhhis, Ckureh Hubrry, 4:23>°; Ayvt, p.. H. 

•Boman. *a9min, Z:V, kjfx, p. 113. 


' wide-spread, the door was open for a larger assertion of Roman 
authority. Rather late in developing l£e monarchical episco- 
pate, smce Anioetus (154r-165)..aeSin^ to have been the first 

\ single head of the Roman Church, liie prominence of its Bishop 

* grew n^ndiy' in the "Xjfhostic struggle, and with this growth 
came the first extensive assertion of the authority of the Roman 
bishop in the affairs of the church at large. 
While Rome was thus gaining in strength Asia Minor was 

^ irelaiively. declining. At tiie beginning of the second century 
Asia Mmor and the adjacent portion of Syria had been the 
most extensively Christianized sections of the empire. That 
was probably, also, true at the century's close. Ephesus and 
Antioch had been, and were still, great Christian centres. 
Asia Minor had resisted Gnosticism, but it had been torn by 
Montanism and other sources of controversy, though the Mon- 
tanists had been rejected. There is reason to thirJc, however, 
that these disputes had borne hard on the imited strength of 
its Christianity. The quarrel between^Asia Minw and Rome- 
arose over the time of the observance of Easter. While there 
is reason to suppose that Easter had been honored from early 

/in Christian history, the first definite record of its celebration 
is in connection with a visit of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, 
to Anicetus, bishop of Rome, in 154 or 155. At that time the 
practice of Asia Minor, probably the more ancient, was to ob- 
serve Easter with the Lord's Supper on the evening of the 
fourteenth of the month Nisan, like the Jewish Passover, re- 
gardless s>L- tb&'4iQr. of .the week on which it might fall. ^The 
Roman custom, and that of some pMs of the East, was to hoH 
the Easter feast always on Sunday. The question was, thero* 
fore, sdiould the day of the week or that of the month be the 
norm. Polycarp and Anicetus could not agree, but parted 
with mutual good-will, each adhering to his Dwn practice.* 
The problem was further complicated by a dispute, aboutl67, 
in Laodicea, in Asia Minor itself, as to the nature of the oele- 
bration on the fourteenth of Nisan, some holding that Chri^ 
died on the fourteenth, as the fourth Gospel in^nates, and 
others placing His deatii, as do the other Gospels, on the fif- 
teenth. The latter treated the oonunemoration of the four- 
teenth of Nisan, therefore, as a Christian continuation of the 
Hebrew Passovar. 

^ EusebiuB, CfRireh Hittary, 5 : 34i«. ^^ ; Ayer, p. 164. 


About 190 the problem became so acute that synods were 
held in Rome, Palestine, and elsewhere which decided in favor 
of the Roman practice. The churches of Asia Minor, led by 
Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, refused conformity. There- 
upon Vi ctor, bishop of Rome (189-198)^ exconamunicated fhe 
recalcitrant congregations. Tins high-nanHed~&xLiou met with 
much protest, notably from Irenieus of Lyons, but it was a 
marked assertion of Roman authority.^ 

These embittered controversies were costly to Ana Minor, 
and any possible rivalry on equal terms of Ephesus and Rome 
was out of the question. The collapse of Jewish Christian 
leadership, the apparent lack at Antioch of men of eminence 
in the second century, and the decline of the infiuence of Asia 
Minor left Rome, by 200, the most eminent and influential 
centre of Christiani^ — a position of which the Roman bishops 
had the will and the abUity to make full use. The na»-st 
Aj^andria andofCarfiage _to importance in the Christian 
tEbugKrand life oF^e thir^ century could not rob Rome of 
its lf»dership. Thar attainment of Christian significance was 
br jrounger tt»^n that of ^e capital of the empire. 


The i^rlji>af, th^vilngij'n,) lepde p .of rlia tinrtt j '^" j fl thfri^'^S 

Old Catholic Church was Irengas. His argument in d^ense 

of traditi^ai ChristiMiity against Gnosticism has already been 

outlined.^ Bom in Asia Minor, he was brought up in Smyrna, 

^F-here he saw and heard Folycarp. The date of his birth has 

been most variously placed by modem scholars from about 

] 15 to about 142, chi^y in the light of its possible bearing on 

traditions as to the authorship of the fourth Gospel. The 

fe-ter part of the period indicated has more probability than the 

sakvUer. From Asia Minor he removed to Lyons in what is , 

mt>^^ France, Tidiere he became a''preibyEer. The great perse- 

j^u-Cioo of 177, at Lyons, found him, fortunately, on an bonor- 

ityJ« mission to Rome; and, on his return, he was chosen 

kf^tliop of Lyons, In succes»on to the martyred Pothinus., 

rfa^t post he continued to hold till his death (c. 200). Not far 

ff>xn 185 he wrote his chief work. Against Heresies, primarily . 

'Euaebiua, Chwch BUtary, 5:23, 24; Ayer, pp. 161-166. 

*^ni«, p. ao. f, 

66 lEENiEUS 

to refute the various Gnostic aclioola, but incidentally reveal- 
ing his own theology. 

Brought up in the tradition of Asia Minor and spending his 
later life in Gaul, IrenKus was a connecting-link not merely 
between distant portions of the empire, but between the older 
theology of the Johannine and Ignatian literature and the 
newer'presentationa which the Apologists and the "Catholic" 
movement of his own day were introducing. A man of deeply 
} rdi^ous spirit, his interest was in salvation. In its e^lica- 
tion he developed'the 'Pauline' and tgiiaCtsn conceptions of 
'- Christ as the new man, the renewer of humanity, the sectHul 
Adam. God created the first Adam, He made him good and 
inmiortal; but both goodness and immortality were lost by 
Adam's disobedience. What man lost in Adam is restored in 
Christ, the incarnate Logos, who now completes the interrupted 
- work. "I have shown that the Son of God did not then bejpn 
to exist [i. e. at Jesus' birth], bmg with the Father horn tbe 
beginning; but when He became incarnate and was made 
man. He commenced afresh the long line of human beings, and 
furnished us, in a brief, comprehensive manner, with salvadon ; 
so that what we had lost in Adam — namely to be according to 
the image and likeness of God — that we might recover in Christ 
Jesus." * The work of Christ, thus described, Irenteus char- 
acterizes in a noble phrase. We follow "the only true ajid 
steadfast Teacher, the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who 
did through His transcendent love become what we are, that 
He might bring us to be even what He is Himself." * Christ 
is also the full revelation of God.* Our union with Him, fol- 
lowing the teaching of Asia Minor and of Justin, Ireiueus views 
as in some sense physical, through the Supper.* Irenttus's 
theory of Christ's new headship of humanity had added to it 
a suggestion 'of His mother as the second Eve. "The knot 
Eve's disobedience was loosened by the obedience of Mary. 
r what the Virgin Eve had bound fast through unbeli^, 
s did the Virgin Mary set free through faith." ' Tn «-hi« 
douB ascription is one of the earliest evidences of that exalta- 
n of the Virgm which was to play ao large a part m tXHstian 
tory. In some ways, even for his time, Irenffius was ao 
-fashioned man. llie belief in Christ's speedy second coax* 
Heratia, 3: IS"; Ayer, pp. 137, 138. »ffer«iM, 5; Prdace. 

ibid., i:20\, */&«., 4:18'; Ayer, p. 138. * Ibid., 3:2^'. 


He had the Roman sense of order and authority. All that he 
touched, however, he formulated with the deamess of defini- 
tion of a trained judicial mind, and hence he gave precision, 
as none had before him, to many theological conceptions that 
had heretofore been vaguely apprehended. / 

For Tertullian Christianity was a great divine foolishness, 
wiser than the highest philosophical wisdom of men, and in 
no way to be squared with existing philosophical systems.^ 
In reality he looked upon it largely through Stoic spectacles. 
I Christianity is^ primarUy knowledgjei .ol.God. It is based on 
peasori-^^Ke soiil^By nature Christian"* — and authority. 
That authority is seated in the church, and only in the ortho- 
^^ dox church, which alone has the truth, expressed in the creed, 
and alone has a right to use the Scriptures.' As with Irensus, 
these valid churches are those that agree in faith with those 
founded by the Apostles, wherein the apostolic tradition has 
been maintained by the succession of bishops.^ These are 
utterances of the still "Catholic" Tertullian. As with Justin 
and common Gentile Christianity of the second century, 
Christianity for Tertullian is a new law. "Jesus Christ . . . 
preached the new law and the new promises of the kingdom of 
heaven."^ Admission to the church is by baptism, by whidi 
previous sins are removed. It is "our sacrament of water, in 
that by washing away the sins of our early blindness we are set 
free into eternal life." • Those who have received it are thence- 
forth "competitors for salvation in earning the favor of God.'*' 
. -Tertullian had a deeper sense of sin than any Christian 
1 /liirriter since Paul, and his teachings greatly aided tfaedevelq)- 
ment of the Latin conceptions of sin and grace. Though not 
clearly worked out, and inconsistent with occasional expres- 
sions, Tertullian possessed a doctrine of original ^. "There 
is, then, besides tiie evil which supervenes on the soul from the 
intervention of the evil spirit, an antecedent, and in a certain 
sense natural evil, which arises from its corrupt origin." * But 
"the power of the grace of God is more potent indeed than 
nature." • The nature of grace he nowhere fully explains. 
It evidently included, however, not only " forgiveness of sins," " 

* Pre9cr%pUon, 7. * Apology ^ 17. • Preacriplum, 13-19. 

* /bid., 32. » Ibid., 13. • Baptism, 1. 
7 Repentance, 6. • Anima, 41. • Ilrid., 21. 

^^ Baptism, 10. _.y 



but also "the grace of divine inspiration," by which power to 
do right is infused to give force to man's feeble, but free, wUL* 
Loofs has shown that this latter conception, of the utmost 
significance for the theology of Western Christendom, is of 
Stoic origin.^ But though salvation is thus based on grace, 
man has much to do. Though God forgives previous sins at 
baptism, satisfaction must be made for those committed there- 
after by voluntary sacrifices, chiefly ascetic. The more a man 
punishes himself, the less God will punish him.' 

Tertullian's most. influential work was the definition of the » 
Logos CIu;istcdfi©c^thpugTi hV'preferreT to use the designer :T 
tiofi Son rather than Logos. If he advanced its content lit^ 
tie beyond what had already been presented by the theolo- 
gians of Asia Minor, and especially by the Apologists, his legal 
mind gave a clearness to its explanation such as had not be- 
fore existed. Here his chief work was one written in his Mon- \ 
tanist period — Against Praxeas. He defines the Godhead in 
terms which almost anticipate the Nicene result of more than ' ' 
s centiury 'Ktef. "Ail are of one, by unity of substance; 
while the mystery of the dispensation is still guarded which 
distributes the unity into a Trinity, placing in their order 
the three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; three, 
however . . • not in substance but in form; not in power 
but in appearance, for they are of one substance and one / 
essence and one power, inasmuch as He is one God from 
whom these degrees and forms and aspects are reckoned un- 
der the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Spirit.*'* He describes these distinctions of the Godhead as 
"persons,"* meaning by the word not our usage in the sense 
of personalities, but forms of manifestation. This unity of 
substance in Tertullian's thought is material, for he was sufli- 
cientiy a Stoic to hold that "God is a body ... for spirit has 
a bodily substance of its own kind." * With a similar predion, 
Tertullian distinguished between the human and divine in 
Christ. "We see His double state, not intermixed but con- 
joined in one person, Jesus, God and man." ^ Since both Son 
and Spirit are derived from the Father by emanation, both are 

^Patimee, 1. 

' LeUfaden turn Studium der Dogmenge^ohickUf p. 164. 
' s Repentance, 2, 9. « Praxeas, 2. > Ibid,, 12. 

• Ibid,, 7. » Ibid., 27, 




subordinate to Him.^ This doctrine of subordination, already 
taught in the Apologists, was to remain characteristic of the 
Logos Christology till the time of Augustine. These definitions 
were far inore the work of a lawyer-like, judicial interpreta- 
tion, than of philosophical consideration. As the first, also, 
to give technical usage to such expressions as inr dtas. m b- 

^starftta:, ' saxTmnffnttm; 9(Xthifacere, merUum, TertuHian left his 
permanent impress on Latin theology. 

/ . Cypciaa waa* in many ways, the intellectual heir of Tertul- 
lian, whom he called master. Bom probably in Carthage, 
about 200, he spent all his life in that city. A man of wealth 
and education, he won distinction as a teacher of rhetoric. 
About 246 he was converted to the Christian faith, and two or 
three years later was chosen to the bishopric of Carthage. 
Here he showed high executive ability, and much practical good 
sense and kindliness of spirit without the touch of. genius that 
characterized Tertullian. The persecution of 250 he escaped 
by flight ; but in that of 258 he stood boldly forth and suffered 
as a martyr by beb^ing. Few leaders of the ancient church 
have been more highly regarded by subsequent ages. ^ 

In Cyprian's teaching the tendencies illustrated in the de- 
velopment of the "Catholic" Church received their full expres- 
son. The church is the one visible orthodpxjconmiunity of 
Christians. "Tliere is one God, and Christ is one^ and tiiere 
is one church, and" one chair (episcopa te) f ounded upon the 
rock by the word of the Lord." ^ "Whoever he may be and 
whatever he may be, he who is not in the church of Christ is 
not a Christian." ' " He can no longer have God for his Father, 
who has not the church for his mother." ^ "There is no sal- 
vation out of the church." * The church is based on the unity 
of its bishops, "whence ye ought to know that the bishop is 
in the church and the church in the bbhop ; and if any one be 
hot with the bishop, that he is not in the church." • "The 
episcopate is one, each part of which is held by each one in 
its entirety." ^ This last quotation has its bearing oiva con- 
troversy still alive as to whether Cyprian regarded all bishops 
as equal sharers in a common episcopal authority, the posses- 
sion of each and of all ; or held to the superiority of the bish(q> 

» Praxeaa, 7, 9. « Letters, 39-43*. » /Wrf., 61-65". 

« UnUy cf iht Church, 6. • Letters, 7^73". • Ibid., 68-66*. 

' Uniiy cf the Church, 6; Ayer, p. 242. 


of Rome. He certainly quoted Matt. 16^** ".* He looked upon 
Peter as the typical bi^op. He rpfenyH in Pnmft ^* i^e c^ef | 
church whence fwiofltly unity takes its soucce/' ' Rome was to 
him evidently die highest church in dignity ; but Cyprian was 
not ready to admit, a judicial authority over others in the Roman .! 
bishop, or to regard him as more than the first among .equals* 
Cyprian's significance as a witness to the full development of 
the doctrine that the Lord's Supper is a sacrifice offer^ by the 
priest to God will be considered in Section XIV. His concep- 
tion of the Christian life, like that of Tertullian, was ascetic. 
Martyrdom is bringing forth fruit an hundredfold ; voluntaiy 
celibacy, sixtyfold.f 



Though the ''Catholic" Church was combating successfully 
the Gnostics, and though the Logos Christology was that of 
such fonnative minds as those of the writer of the fourth 
Gospel, Justin, Irenseus, and Tertullian, that Christology was 
not wholly r^rded with sympathy by the rank and file of 
&eIiev^^.'^Herina3"had taught tm odc^omst Christology at 
Rome as late as 140. The ^)03tlj&i|'.Crpffri has nojeference^ to 
^^ TifffT" '^^^trf"'* TertuIHan says significantly of his own 

"Ime (213-218) : "The simple — ^I wUl not call them unwise or 
unlearned — ^who always constitute the majority of believers, 
are startled at the dispensation of the three in one, on the 
ground that their very rule of faith withdraws them from the 
world's plurality of gods to the one only true God.'' ^ It was 
difiicult for them to see in trinitarian conceptions aught else 
but an assertion ^oltritheism. The last decade of the second 

^jiMHte'fiiii two of the third centuries were an important epoch, ^ 
therefore, in Christological discussion, especially in Rome, * 
where the question was in the balance. 

To some extent this new Christological discussion seems to 
have been the indirect result of Montanism. That movement 
had made much of the fourth Gospel, proclaiming itself the in- 
auguration of the dispensation of the Spirit, therein promised. 
Some opponents of Montanism in Asia Minor, in their reaction 

^E.g., UnUy of the Ckureh, 4. *LeUen, MrC&^K 



from its teachings, went so far as to reject the fourth Gospel 
and its doctrine of the Logos. Qf these "Alogoi/' as Epiph- 
anius (1-403), writing much later, nicknamed them, little is 
known in detail, but some of thecritics of the Logos Christology 
who now came into prominence were' apparently inflnenced by 
them. To these opponents in general the name Monarchians 
IS usually given — a title coined "by Tei lulliau^ since "fliey as- 

j'sertedthe uiilty of God. The Monarchians fell into two very 
unlike classes, those who held that Jesus was the Son of God 

I by adoption, the so-called Dynamic Monarebiana: an d^tEo se 

t-who held that Christ was but a temporary form of manifesta- 
tion of the one God, the party known as the Modalistic Mo- 

I narchians. Thus, with the supporters of the Logos view, three 
Christologies were contesting in Rome at the beginning of the 
third century. 

The first Pynamic Monarchian of prominence was Theodotus, 
called the currFer/orlEannerrf rom Byzantium. He was a man of 
learning, and is said to have been a disciple of the Alogoi, though^ 
unlike them, he accepted in some sense the fourth Grospel. 
About 190 he came to Rome, and there taught that Jesus was 
a man, born of the Virgin, of holy life, upon whom the divine 
Christ (or the Holy Spirit) descended at His baptism. Some 
of Theodotus's followers denied to Jesus any title to divinity ; 
but others held that He became in some sense divine at His 
resurrection.* One is reminded of the Christology of Hermas 
(Ante, p. 39). Theodotus was excommunicated by Bishop Vic- 
tor of Rome (189-198) ; but his work there was continued by 
Theodotus, ''the money-changer,'' and Asclepiodorus, like their 
master, probably from the O^ent ; but their effort to found a 
rival conmiunion outside the ''Catholic" Church amounted to 
little. The last attempt to present a similar theology in Rome 
was that of a certain Artemon (230-40-270), but Dynamic 
Monarchianism in the West was already moribund. Yet it 
undoubtedly represented a type of Christology that was one 
of the oldest in the Christian Church. 

The Dynamic Monarchian party was stronger and more 
persistent in the East. There it had its most famous represen- 
tative in Paul of Samosata, the able and politically gifted 
bishop of Antioch from c. 260 to 272. He represented the 

1 PraxeoM, 3, 10. 

* Hippolytus, ReftUation, 7*', 10^*; Ayer, p. 172. 


Logos, which he also described as the Son of God, as an imper- 
sonal attribute of the Father. This Logos had inspired Moses 
and the prophets. Jesus was a man, unique in that He was bom 
of the Virgin^ who ^wss fiHcd with the pow«r of God, u e., by 
GQd'« Logos. By this indwelling inspiration Jesus was united 
in will by love to God, but did not oecome in substance one 
with God. That union is moral, but inseparable. By reason 
of it Christ was raised from the dead, and given a kind of dele- 
gated divinity. Between 264 and 269 three synods considered 
Paul of Samosata's views, by the last of whidi he was excom- 
municated ; but he kept his place till driven out by the Em- 
peror Aurelian (p. 106). 

Much more numerous than the Dynamic Monarchians were ^ 
the Modalistic Monarchians, who made an appeal to the many^ 
for the reason already quoted from Tertullian (ante^ p. 71), that 
in the presence of heathen polytheism, the unity of God seemed > 
a prime article of the Christian faith, and any Logos concep-y^ 
tion or Dynamic Monarchianism seemed to them a denial of 
that unity. CypriM^oamedJojP these. MpdftUstic 
^'^f{ ni^l^"ff™** T>nfripnq<^;Qpq 1 Thc leader of Modalistic Mo- 
narchianism was, like that of Dynamic Monarchianism, an 
Oriental Christian, Noetus, probably of Smyrna. The same 
oontrovertnes in Asia Minor may well have called forth both in- 
terpretations. Of Noetus little is known save that he taught 
in his native region m the period 180 to 200, ''that Christ was 
theJ^iither Himself, and that the Father Himself was bom and 
suffered and died." ^ These views were transplanted to Rome, 
about 190, by a certain Praxeas, a follower of Noetus and an 
opponent of the Montanists, regarding whom Tertullian, then 
a Montanist and always a defender of the Logos Christology, 
said : "Praxeas did two works of the devil in Rome. He drove 
out prophecy and introduced heresy. He put to flight the 
Holy Spirit and crucified the Father." ' A little later two other 
disciples of Noetus, Epigonus and Cleomenes, came to Rome 
and won, in large measure, the sympathy of Bishop Zephyrinus 
(198-217) for the Modalistic Monarchian position. 

The most noted leader of the Modalistic school, whose name 
became pennanently associated with this Christology, was Sa- 

» Letter*, 72-73«, 

' HippolytuB, Against NoetuSj 1 ; Ayer, p. 177. 

» Praxeas, 1 ; Ayer, p. 179f 


y ^bJ&iMfOt^^bose early life little is known, but who was teaching 
' m Rome about 215. His theology was essentially that of Noe- 
tus, but much more carefully wrought out, espedaUy in that 
it gave a definite place to the Holy Spirit as well as to the 
Son. Fathfii;.San^Lajid .Holy Spirit are all one and the same. 
. Each is a prosopQnrT-:!WK^©^oi^-^(a word of large later^ortho- 
idox use), that is a character oF" form of manifestation, of the 
tone God, who showed Himself in His character of creator as 
!the Father, in that of redeemer as the Son, and now as the 
Holy Spirit. Sabellius, though soon excommunicated at Rome, 
found large following for his views in the East, especially in 
Egypt and Libya. Nor w^q 1ia w^flimif /v^nftirtpraMi* infl^ntnf^ 
^ tiie*cletnekmn}£aitjof what became the orthodox Christology. 
^ 'ffiS(rfbsorutejientification of Father, Son, and Holy Splfif was 
^^Vi rejectedTl)ur it implied an equality which ultimately, as in 
\ \ Augustine, triumphed over the subordination of So n and S pirit 
! I diaracteristio ef -die Logos Christok^^xcdnrf;^ 
; 11 Athanasius. - ^^ ~" -^ - ^ , 

U The great advocate of the Logos Christology at this juncture 
. in Rome was Hippolytus (160-170 — c. 235), the most learned 
. Christian writer tiien in the dty, and the last considerable 
theologian there to use Greek ratiier than Latin as his vehicle 
of expression. As a conmientator, chronicler, calculator of 
Easter dates, Apologist, and opponent of heretics, he was held 
in such high repute that his followers erected after his death 
the earliest Christian portrait statue known. Hfi..JQ420sed 
vigorously th$. J^Ionardyans of both-jachools. The fight in 
Rome waxed hot.. Bishop 2iepEyrmus (198-217) hardly knew 
what to de^ though he leaned -to3(Eard' the Monffieysn ade. 
On his death he was succeeded by Kallistos (Calixtus, 217-222), 
the most energetic and assertive bishop tiiat Rome had yet 
seen — a man who had been bom a slave, had engaged unsuc- 
cessfully in banking, and had, for a tune, been a sufferer for his 
Christian faith in the mines of Sardinia. Over Zephyrinus he 
acquired great influence, and on his own attainment of the 
bishopric, issued in his own name certain regulations as to the 
readmission to the church of those repentant of sins of licen- 
tiousness, which show higher ecdesiastical claims than any here- 
tofore advanced by a Roman bishop (see p. 101). Kallistos saw 
that these disputes were hurting the Roman Church. He there- 
fore exconununicated Sabellius (c. 217), and charged Hippdytos 


with b eing a worshipper of two gods.^ Hippglxtusjipw broke 

wjt h Kdfa to O L^ ir tfals^grou ip^ ftP^ ^^ JUlff]^"^- r ^gP^"^'i i g, ^'^- . 
dplgifii ^and beet le, the head of a rival, communion in Rome-^ 
— thefirst "counter-pope'* — a position which^ he^ maintamed 
t ill BS^'baiiisEmeritTn th e per secufion (^^35> 

Kallistos tried to find a compromise Tonnula in this Chris- 
tological confusion. Father, Son and Logos, he held, are all 
names of '^^"q^indiYiff^*^ iT^'"^ " Yet Son is also tiie proper 
designation of that which was visible, J^us ; while iht Fatiier 
was the spirit in Him. This presence of the Father in Jesus j- 
IS the Logos. Kallistos was positive that the Father did not 
suffer on the cross, but suffered with the sufferings of the Son, 
Jesus; yet the Father ''after He had taken unto Himself our 
flesh, raised it to the nature of deity, by bringing it into union 
with Himself, and made it one, so that Father and Son must 
be styled one God." * This is, indeed, far from logical or dear. 
One cannot blame Hippolytus or Sabellius for not liking it. 
Yet ijLwaa-a^-^xuxu^rQmise. which recognized a pre-existent Logos 
injni^fiat., ftvftu 1^ ^^ iHftntifift<? that Logos With the Father; 
it indsted on the identity of that which indwelt Jesus with 
God ; and it claimed a hiunan Jesus, raised to divinity by the 
Father, and made one with Him, thus really showing a distinct 
tion between the Father and the Bon, " while -deiiying in words 

dafes. This compromise won the majority in Rome, 

and opened the door for die full victory of the Logos Chris- 
tology there. That yictoiy was determined by the able ex- 
po8^^j>f jthat.ChristolQgy which came at the turning-point 
in tESconflict (213-218) from tibe pen of Tertullian of Car-I 
thage-^AgainH Praxeas (see arUe^ p. 69), with its clear defini-' 
tions c^ aiyinity in three persona and. of a distinction between 
the divine and human^ in Christ. 

How completely this Christology won its way in Western 
Christendom is shown by the treatise on the Trinity , written by 
the Roman preaba eter. Nov atian. between 240 and 250. That 
eminent scholar was the firatj^Jthi^ Roman cpmmimion 
to iiseXatioj^thfL^han GreelET His quarrel with the dominant 
party in the church ^nUlBe described later (p. 102). Novatian 
did little more than reproduce and expand TertuUian's views. 
But it is important that he treated this exposition as the only 
tiormal and legitimate interpretation of the " rule of truth " — ^the 

^ Hippolytu^'.i^iitatMm, 9*. * Ibid,, 9' 


"Apostles' Creed." That symbol had been silent regarding the 
Logos Christplogy. To Novatiaii the Logos Christolbgy is its 
bmy proper meaning. Between Father and Son a ''communion 
of substance" exists.^ The Latin equivalent of the later famous 
Nicene Homoousion— o/ioowo-ioi^— was therefore current in Rome 
before 250. Novatian has even a social Trinity. Comment- 
ing on John 10^, " I and the Father are one/' he declares that 
Christ ''said one thing {unum). Let the heretics understand 
that He did not say one person. For one placed in the neuter 
intimates the social concord, not the personal unity." ' The 
most valuable thing in Novatiaa» is that he emphasized what 
was the heart of the conviction of the church in all this involved 
Christological controversy, that Christ was fully God and 
equally fully man.' Finally, about 262, the Roman blsEdp, 
HDion3rsiUsT259-268), writing against the Sabellians, expressed 
the Logos Christology in terms more nearly approximating to 
what was to be the Nicene decision of 325 than any other third- 
century theologian.^ Thus the West had reached conclusions 
Ireadily harmonizable with the result at Nicasa, more than 
Vixty years before that great council. The East had attamed 
mo such imiformity. 


V Alexandria was, for more than six centuries, the second city 
of the ancient world, surpassed only by Rome, and later by Con* 
stantinople, in importance. Founded by Alexander the Great 
in B. C. 332, it was primarily a trading community, and as 
such, attracted numbers of Greeks and Jews. Its intellectual 
life was no less remarkable. Its library was the most famous 
in the empire. In its streets East and West met. There Greek 
philosophy entered into association, or competed in rivalry-, 
with Judaism and many other Oriental cults, while the influence 
of ancient Egyptian thought persisted. It was the most 
cosmopolitan city of the ancient world. There the Old Testa- 
ment was translated into Greek, and there Philo reinterpreted 
Judaism in terms of Hellenic philosophy. There Neo-Platonism 
was to arise in the third century of our era. Of the introduc- 
tion of Christianity mto. Alexandria, or into Egypt generally, 

» TriniUy, 31. « Ibid., 27. 

* Ibid., 11, 24. « In Athanasius, De Deereiis, 26. 



nothing is known, but it must have been early, since when the 
veil of silence was lifted Christianity was evidently strongly 
rooted there. The Gnostic, Basilides, taught in Alexandria in 
the reign of Hadrian (117-138). There the various philosoph- 
ical systems had their ''schools/' where instruction could be 
obtuned by all inquirers, and it was but natural that Christian 
teachers should imitate this good example, though it would 
appear that the beginnings of this work were independent of 
the Alexandrian Church authorities. 

By about 185. «. famous pateohgtigajjigfrnnl fiiqatgdjn Alex- j^ 
andria, then under the leadership of a cpixverted BtoTc phi- 
losophe rrFantflen usV Whether it originated with him, or what 
his own theological position may have been, it is impossible 
to determine. With Clemmt of Alexandria (?-c. 215), Pan- Jl 
tsenus's pupil and successor, it comes into the light. The 
course of religious development in Alexandria had evidently 
differed from that in Asia Minor and the West. In the latter 
regions the contest with Gnosticism had bred a distrust of 
philosophy such that Tertullian could declare that there was 
no possible connection between it and Christianity. That 
contest had, also, immensely strengthened the appeal to apos- 
tolical tradition and consolidated organization. In Alexandria 
these characteristics of the ''Old Catholic'' Church had not so 
fully [developed, while philosophy was regarded not as incon- 
sistent with Christianity, but as its handmaid. Here a imion ( 
of what was best in ancient philosophy, chiefly Platonism and 
Stoicism, was effected to a degree nowhere else realized in 
orthodox circles, and the result was a Christifl,fi ( jfngst^ ciam, 
1 Clement of Alexandria was typical of this movement. At the 
same time he was a presbyter in the Alexandrian Church, thus 
serving as a connecting-link between the church and the school. 

The more important of the works of Clement which have 
survived are thi^ : his Exhortation to the Heathen, an apologetic 
treatise, giving incidentally no little information as to the 
mystary religions; his Instructor, the first treatise on Chris- 
tian conduct, and an invaluable mine of information as to the 
customs of the age ; and his Stromata, or Miscellanies, a coUec- ' 
tion of profound thoughts on religion and theology, arranged 
without much regard to system. Throughout he shows the 
mind of a highly trained and widely read thinker. Clement 
vrovid interpret Christianity as Philo did Judaism, by phi- 







losophy, into scientific dogmatics. To him, as to Justin, whom 
he far surpassed in clearness of intellectual grasp, the divine 
Logos has always been the source of all the intelligence and 
morality of the human race — ^the teacher of mankind every- 
where. "Our instructor is the holy God, Jesus, tiie Word who 
is the guide of all humanity." ^ He was the source of all true 
philosophy. " God is the cause of all good things ; but of some 
primarily, as of the Old and the New Testament ; and of others 
by consequence, as of philosophy. Perchance, too, philosophy 
was given to the Greeks directly and primarily, till the Lord 
should call the Greeks. For this was a schoolmaster to bring 
the Hellenic mind, as the law the Hebrews, to Christ." ' 

This training of humanity by the Logos has been, therefore, 
a progressive education. So it is, also, in the church. " Faith,'' 
that is simple, traditional Christianity, is enough for salvation ; 
but the man who adds to his f aitii " knowledge,'' has a higher 
possession.' He is the true, Christian Gnostic. "To him that 
hath shall be given ; to faith, knowledge ; to knowledge, love ; 
and to love, the inheritance.'' ^ The highest good to which 
knowledge leads — ^a good even greater than the salvation which 
it necessarily involves — ^is the knowledge of God. "Could 
we then suppose any one proposing to the Gnostic whether he 
would choose the knowledge of God or everlasting salvation ; 
and if these, which are entirely identical, were separable, he 
would without the least hesitation choose the knowledge of 
God."^ That highest good brings with it an almost Stoic 
absence of feeling, either of pleasure or of pain — a condition of 
blessedness in which Clement believes Christ stood, and to 
which the Apostles attained through* His teaching.^ One can 
readily comprehend that Clement, like Justin, hadlio real 
interest in the earthly life of Jesus. The Logos then became 
incarnate, indeed, but Clement's view of Christ's life is almost 
Docetic, certainly more so than that of any teacher of orthodox 
standing in the church of his own day. 

Clement wrought out no complete theological system. 
That was to be the task of his even more celebrated pupil 
and successor in the headship of the Alexandrian catechetical 
school — grigKQ. Bom of Christian parentage, probably in 
Alexandna, D^^een 182 and 185, Origen grew up there into a 

* /Wd., 7«>. 

* Siromata, V ; Ayet, p. 190. 
» /bid., 4« 

• Ibid., 1«. 

• Ibid., 6», 



familiarity with the Scriptures that was to render him the ^ 
most fully acquainted with the Bible of any of the writers in ^ 
the early church. His study of philosophy must also have 
been early b^gun. A youth of intense feeling and eager mental 
curiosity, he was as remarkable for his precocity as for the 
later ripeness of his scholarship. The persecution under Sep- 
timius Severus, in 202, cost the life of Qrigen's father, and 
he would have shared the same fate had not his mother frus- 
trated his wishes by a stratagem. This persecution had driven 
Qrigen's teacher, Clement, from the city; and now, in 203, in 
spite of his youth, he gathered round himself inquirers with 
whom he reconstituted the catechetical school. This position 
he held with great success and with the approval of Bishop 
Demetrius, till 215, when the Emperor CaracaUa drove all 
teachers of philosophy from Alexandria. His instruction had 
before been interrupted by visits to Rome (c. 211-212), where 
he met Hippolytus, and to Arabia (c. 213-214). His manner 
of life was ascetic in the extreme, and to avoid slander arising^ \ 
out of his relations with his numerous inquirers he emasculated 
himself, taking Matt. 19^^ as a counsel of perfection. The year 
215 saw Qrigen in Caesarea in Palestine, where he made friends 
of permanent value. Permitted to return to Alexandria, proba- 
bly in 216, he resumed his instruction, and began a period of 
sdiolarly productivity the results of which were little short of 

Origen's labors in Alexandria were broken by a journey to 
Greece and Palestine in 230 or 231. He was still a layman; 
but, by friendly Palestinian bishops he was ordainpH a presby- 
ter, in Caesarea, probably that he might "be free to preach. 
Thi3.4n€ination of an Alexandrian layman. Bishop Demetrius 
oTAlexandria not unnatiutdly viewed as an intrusion on his 
jurisdiction, and jealousy of the successful teacher may have 
added to his resentment. At all events, Demetrius held* 
synods by which Qrigen was banished ^PiSuJ^exandria, and 
as far as was in thdr poW<^ ^posed from the ministry. He 
now found a congenial home in friendly Ceesarea. Here he con- 
tinued his indefatigable studies, his teaching, and to them he 
added frequent preaching. He made occasional jbumeys. He 
^was surrounded by friends who held him in the highest esteem. 
With the great I)jGmii4>ersecutioB (see-p^&O) of 250, this period 
of peace ended. He was imprisoned and tortured, and died either 




■ K 

■v.» , 


in Cssarea or Tyre, probably in 251 (254 ?) as a conscience 

I of the cruelties he had undergone. ~'No man of purer Qpurit or 
nobler aims ornaments the history of the ancient church. 
Origen was a man of miany-sided scholarship. The field to 
which he devoted most attention was that of Biblical text- 

i criticism and exegesis. Here his chief productions were his 
monumental Hexapla, jSYl^g the Hebrew and fouiL jwallel 
Greek translations of tlie Old'Testament; and a long aeries of 
commentaries and briefer notes treating nearly the entire 
range of Scripture. It was the most valuable workJhat had 

^ yet been done by any Christian scholar. In the field of the- 
ology his De PHricipm, Written before 231, was not merely the 
first great systematic presentation of Christianity, but its 
thoughts and methods thenceforth controlled Greek dogmatic 
development. Hb Against Celsus, written between 246 and 
248, in reply to the ablest criticism of Christianity that heathen- 
ism had produced — ^that of the Platonist Celsus (c. 177) — ^was 
the keenest and niost convincing defense of the Christian faith 
that the ancient world bfought forth, and one fully-worthy of 
the greatness of the controversy. Besides these monumental 
undertakings he found time for the discussion of practical 
Christian ti^emes^ such as prayer and martyrdom, and for the 
preparation of many sermons. His was indeed a life of un- 
wearied industry. 

iln Origen the process was complete which had long been 
interpreting Christian truths in terms of Hellenic thinking. 

' He gave to the Christian system the fullest scientific standing, 
as tested by the science of that age, wbkh was almost -eif^rely 
comprised in philosophy and ethics. His philosophic stand- 
pomt was essratially Platonic and Stoic, with a decided leaning 
toward positions similar to those of the rising Neo-Platonism, 
the lectures of whose founder, Ammonius Saccas, he is said to 
have heard.^ These philosophic principles he sought to bring 
into harmony with the Scriptures, as his great Hebrew fellow 
townsman, PhUo, had done, by allegorical interpretation of 
the Bible. All nonpal Scriptiu^, he held, has a threefold 
meaning. ''The simple man may be edified by the 'flesh' as 
it were of the Scriptures, for so we name' the obvious sense ; 
while he who has ascended a certain way may. be edified by 
the 'soul' as it were; the perfect man . • . may reodive edifi* 

^ EusebiuB, Church Hittory, 6 : 19*, 


cation from the spiritual law, which has a shadow of good 
things to come. For as man consists of body and soul and 
spirit, so m the same way does Scripture/'^ This allegorical ^> 
system enabled Qrigen to read practically what he wished into ' 
the Scriptures. 

As a necessary foundation for his theological system, Origen 
posited that ''which differs in no respect from ecclesiastical 
and apostolical tradition.^' ' These fundamentals of tradi- 
tional Christianity include belief (1) ''in one Grod . . . the 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, [who] Himself gave the law 
and the prophets and the Gospels, beiag also the God of the 
Apostles and of the Old and New Testaments" ; (2) "that Jesus 
Christ BSmself . . . was bom of the Father before all creatures 
• . • bec^me,j^.man, and was incarnate although God, and 
while mSHelTman remained the God which He was . . . was 
bom of a .\^rgin . . • was truly bom and did truly suffer and 
. . . did truly die . . • did truly rise from the dead '^; (3) "that 
the Holy Spirit was associated in honor and dignity with the 
Father and the Son" ; (4) in ^gjr^iauXTection and in future re- , 
wards and punishments ; (5) ^^ree vnS\ ; (6) in the existence \ 
and opix)sition of the devil aim his angels ; (7) that the world 
was made in time and will "be destroyed on account of its 
wickedness " ; (8) " that the Scriptures were written by the Spirit 
of God" ; (9) "that there are certain angels of God, and cer- 
tain good influences which are His servants in accomplishing the 
salvation of men." ' These are essential beliefs for all Chris- 
tians, leamed and unlearned, as taught by the church; and .on 
them Qrigen proceeded to erect his mighty fabric of systematic 
theology — that explanation of Christianity for him who would 
add to his faith knowledge. 

Qrigen's conception of the universe was strongly Platonic. 
The real world is the spiritual reality behind this temporary, 
phenomenal, visible world. In that world great transactions 
have had thdr place. There, as with Plato, our spirits existed. 
There an first entered. There we fell, and thither the redeemed i^ 
will return. God, the uncreated, perfect Spirit, is the source of "" 
all. From Him the Son is etemally generated. " His generation 
is as eternal and everlasting as the brilliancy which is produced 
from the sun." * Yet Christ is "a second God." * a "crea- 

» De PHneipiU, 4:1"; Ayer, pp. 200, 201. « De PHneipiis, Preface. 
>AU Mi. «Z)e PrincipiU, l:2\ ^CeUw, 6^. 


ire." Christ's position, as Loofs has pointed out, was viewed 
Y Orig^ as the same as that of the nous — mind, thou^t — ^in 
le Neo-Flatonic system. He is the "mediator" between 'God 
id His world of creatures, the being through whom they were 
lade. Highest of these creatures is the Holy Spirit, whom 
rigen reckons to the Godhead, by reason of churchly tradi- 
on, but for whom he has no real necessity in his system. 

AH spiritual beings, including the spirits of men, were made 
y God, through t^e Son, in the true spiritual world. "He 
id no other reason for creating them than on account of 
[imself, J. (jJElis^own goodness." ' AH were good, though their 
xxlhess, unlike tbat of God; was "an accidental and periah&- 
le qu^ty."^ All had free will. Hence some fell by wt in 
le invisible spiritual world. It was as a place of punishment 
ad of reform that God created this visible universe, plaong 
lUen spirits therein in proportion to the heinousness of th^r 
ns. The least sinful are angels and have as bodies the stars, 
hose of greater ^fulness are on the face of the eartfiTWith 
oimal souls, also, and mortal bodies. They constitute man- 
ind. The worst are the demons, led by the devil himself. 

Salvation was wrought by the Logos-Son becoming man, by 
niting with a human soul that had not sinned in its previous 
dstence and a pure body. While here Christ was God and 
lan; but at the resurrection and ascension Christ's huniaxii^ 
as given the glory of His divmity, and is no longer human 
ut divine.' That transformation Christ effects for all His 
Isciplcj. "From Him there began the union of the divine 
ith the human nature, in order that the human, by commu- 
ion with the divine, might rise to be divine, not in Jesus alone, 
ut in all those who not only believe but enter upon the life 
hich Jesus taught." * Origen, more than any theolt^iaa 
nee Paul, «nphasized the sacrificial chuBcter -^ -Christ's 
eath ; but he interpreted it in many ways, aome of -which were 
ot very consistent with others. Christ suffered what was *' for 
le good of the human race" as a representative and aa exam- 
le.' He was in some sense a propitiatory offering to God. He 
as a ransom paid to the powers of evO.' He conquered the 
emons.^ He frustrated their expectation that they could hold 

' De PrindpiU, 2:9*. ' Tirid., 1:6'. ' Cebua, 3". 

• md., 3«. ' Ibid, 7" ; Ayer, p. 197. 

*Cim. m UaU.. 12», W, Ayer, p. 197. ' Com. on J(An, 6*'. 


Him by the bonds of death and brought then* kingdom to an 
end.^ Those of mankind who are His disciples are received at 
death into Paradise; the evil find their place in hell. Yet, 
ultimately, not only all men, but even the devil and all spirits 
with him will be saved.^ This will be the restoration of all 
things, when God will be all in all. 

Ongen's theological structure is the greatest intellectuall 
Bclaev&aient^Mt-the anteJEcene ChurcKL'" It'i nfluenood ^vo-J^ 
^-fouadly^air after-thinking in the Orient. Yet it is easy to see 
how he could be quoted on either side in the later Christological 
controversies, and to understand, in the light of a later rigid or- 
thodoxy, how he came to be regarded as a heretic, whose views 
were condemned by a synod in his native Alexandria in 399 or 
400, by the Emperor Justinian in 543, and by the Fifth General 
Coundlin.S52^ His work was professedly for the learned, not 
toTtSSec^mon Christian. Because its science is not our sci- 
ence it seems strange to us. But it gave to Christianity full 
scientific standing in that age. In particular, the teachings of 
Clem ent and Oi^ngr^tly advanced, the dominance of the 
Logos^Christoiogy in Qie Orient, though Sabellianism was stUl 
wide-«pread there, and an adoptionist Christology had an emi- 
nent representative in the bi^op of Antioch, Paul of Samosata, 
as late as 272. 

Yet Origen was not without serious critics in the century in 
which he lived. Of these the most important, theologically, 
was Methodius, bishop of Olympus, in Lycia, who died about 
311. Taking his stand on the tradition of Asia Minor, Metho- 
dius denied Origen's doctrines of the soul's pre^xistence and 
imprisonment in this world, and afSrmed the resurrection of 
the body. In ability he was not to be compared with Origen. 


The visible decline of the Roman Empire is usually reckoned I 
from the death of Marcus Aurelius (180), though its causes go| 
back much further. Population was diminishing. Trade and 
industry were fettered by heavy taxation. The leadership • 
passed more and more from the hands of the cultivated classes. * 
The army was largely recruited from the outlying provinces of 
the empire, and even from tribes beyond its borders. From the 

*i7««i. on MaU.. 13», • De Principiia, X : 6»-« ; Ayer, p. 19». 

IjL ""^' 


death of Com modu s (192), it dictated the choice of Emperors, 
who, in general/ were very far from representing the liigher 
type of Gneco-Ronun culture, as had the Antonines. The 

t whole administrative machinery of the empire was increasugly 
inefficient, and the defense of its borders inadequate. From 
a military point of view, conditions grew steadily worse till the 
time of Aurelian (270-275), and were hardly securely bettered 
' tin tlnrt af Diaalatian (284r-305). In other respects no con^d- 
>erable pause was achi^vedln the decline. Yet this period was 
' also one of increasing feeling of popular unity in the emfure. 
The lines of distinction between the races were breaking down. 
^ In 212 the Roman citizenship was extended by Camcalla, not 
A wholly from disinterested motives, to all free ii^bitants of the 
empire. Above all, from a religious point of view, the close 
: of the second and the whole of the third centuries were aa age 
of syncretism, a period of deepening religious feeling, in whi^ 
the mystery religions of the Orient — and Christianity also — 
made exceedingly rapid increase in the number of dieir ad- 

This growth of the church was extendve aa well as inten^ve. 
To near the close of the second century it had penetrated little 
beyond those whose ordinary tongue was Greek. By the dawn 
of the third century the church was rapidly advancing in Latin- 
speaking North Africa and, though more slowly, in Spun and 
Gaul, and reaching toward, if it had not already arrived in, 
Britain. In Egypt Christianity was now penetrating the 
native population, whQe by 190 it was wett represented in Syriac- 
speaking E^lessa. Hie church was also reaching more exten- 
^vely than earlier into the higher classes of society. It was 
being better understood ; and though Tertullian ^ows that 
the old popular slanders of cannibalism and gross immorality 
were still prevalent in 197,' as the third century went on they 
seem to have much decreased, doubtless through growing ac- 
quaintance with the real significance of Christianity. 
I The relations of the state to the church during the period 
ffrom 180 to 260 wetfi most various, depending on the will of 
Ithe several Emperors^but, on the whole, such as to aid rather 
than to hinder its growth till the last decade of this period. 
Legfdly, Christianity was condemned. It had no right to 
exist.* Practically, it enjoyed a con^derable degree of toIerfr> 
Apologj/, 7. * TertuUian, ApoUvn, 4. 



lion during most of this epoch. The persecution which had 
~~been: begun under Marcus Aurelius continued into the rdgn of ^ 
Commodusy but he soon neglected the church as he did about ev* 
erything else not connected with his own pleasures. This rest 
continued tiU well into the reign of Septimius Severus (193-211) ; 
but was broken in 202 by a persecution of considerable severity, 
especially in Carthage and Egypt. Under Caracalla (211-217), ' i 
persecution again raged in North Africa. Elagabalus (218- 
222), though an ardent supporter of sun-worship, was disposed 
to a syncretism which was not openly hostile to Christianity, 
^exander Severus (222-235) was distinctly favorable. A syn- 
crefist who would unite many' religions, he placed a bust of 
Christ in his private chapel along with images of leaders of 
other fuths; while his mother, Julia Mamsea, under whose in- 
fluence he stood, heard lectures by Origen. He even decided 
a dispute as to whether a piece of property in Rome should 
be used by its Christian claimants, doubtless as a place of 
worship, or by their opponents as a cook-shop, in favor of 
the Christians. A change of policy came under Maximinus 
(235-238), by whom an edict against the Christians was is- 
sued, which, though not exten^vely enforced, thrust both the 
'^ Catholic" bishop, Pontianus, and his schismatic rival Hip- 
polytus from Rome into the cruel slavery of the mines, where 
they soon lost their lives. In eastern Asia Minor and Palestine 
this persecution made itself felt. Under Grordian (238-244) 
and till near the end of the reign of Philip the Arabian (244- 
249) the church had rest. For that new outbreak Philip was 
in no way responsible. Indeed, an erroneous rumor declared 
him to be secretiy a Christian. The number of martyrs in 
these persecutions was not large, as Origen testified, writing 
between 246 and 248,^ and these outbreaks were local, if at 
times of considerable extent. Though Christians were deprived" 
of all l^al protection, the average believer must have thought 
that the condition of the church was approaching practical 

This growing feeling of security was rudely dispc^ed. The^ 
year 248 saw the celebration of the thousandth anniversary of[ 
the founding of Rome. It was a time of revival of ancient 
traditions and of the memories of former splendors. The em- i 
pire was never more threatened by barbarian attack or torn! 



|by internal disputes. The populace attributed these troubles 
he cessation of persecutJon.* A fierce mob attack brdce 
in Alc3candria before the death of Philip the Art^ian. To 
more observant heatheDl the growth of a ri^dly organized 
ch might well seem that of a state within the state, the 
i dangerous that Christians still largely refused army ser- 

or the duties of public office.* Nearer at hand la^ the 
sible, though falladous, argument that as Rome had grown 
t when the old gods were worshipped by all, so now their 
rtion by a portion of the population had cost Rome their 

and had caused the calamities evident on eveiy hand. 

was apparently the feeling of the new Emperor, Decius 
-251), and of a conservative Roman noble. Valerian, with 
m Decius was intimately assodated. The xeault was the 
': of 250, which initiated the first universal and systematic 
5Cution of Christianity. 

le Decian persecution was by far the worst trial that the 
ch as a whole had undergone~Ahe more severe because it 
princnple and determination behind it. The aim was not 
larily to take life, though there were numerous and cruel 
yrdoms, but rather to compel Christians by tortyie, im- 
iBiBentr or fear to .sacrifice to the old gods. Bishops Fa- 

of Rome and Babylas of Antioch died as martyrs. Origen 
hosts of others were tortured, llie number of these " con- 
•rs" was very great. So, also, was the number of the 
sed " — that is, of those who, through fear or torture, sac- 
id, burned incense, or procured certificates from friendly 
enal officials that they had duly worshipped in the form 
nibed by the state.' Many of these lapsed, when the per- 
tion was over, returned to seek in bitter penitence read- 
ion to the church. The question of their treatment caused 
ig, enduring schism m Rome, and much trouble elsewhere 

p. 101). Fierce as it was, the persecution under Decius 
Valerian was soon over; but only to be renewed in some- 
: milder form by Decius's successoiv- Gallus (251-253). 
i3 Decius's old associate in persecution, V^erian, obtained 
•ssioa of the empire (253-260). Though he at first left 
[Christians undisturbed, in 257 and 258 he r^iewed the at- 

with greater ferocity. Christian assemblies were forbid- 
ligOD, Cdtus, 3" ; Ayert p. 206. * Origen, Cdmu, S'*- '*. 

yer, p. 210, for s] 


den; Christian churches and cemeteries confiscated; bishops, 
priests, and deacons ordered to be executed, and lay Chris* 
tians in high places disgraced, banished, and their goods held 
forfeited. Under this persecution Cyprian died in Carthage, 
Bishop Sixtus 11 and the Deacon Laurentius in Rome, and 
Bishop Fructuosus in Tarragona in Spain. It was a fearful pe- .v 
riod of trial, lasting, with intermissions indeecLfrom 250 to 259. 

In 260 Valerian became a prisoner in the handsoFthe vi?5=^ 
torious Persians. His son, associate Emperor and successor, 
(jallienus (260-268), a thoroughly weak and incompetent ruler, 
promptly gave up the struggle with Christianity. Church 
property was returned, and a degree of favor shown that has,^ ^ 
sometimes, though erroneously, been interpreted as a legal ^ 
toleration. That the act of Gallienus was not. The old laws 
against ChriAiianity were unrepealed. Practically, however, a 
peace began which was to last till the outbreak of the persecu- 
tion under Diocletian, in 303, though probably threatened by 
Aurelian just before his death in 275. The church had come | 
out of the struggle stronger than ever before. 



The effect of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montanism 
upon the development of the bishoprics as centres of unity, 
witnesses to apostolical tradition, and bearers of an apostolical 
suooessbn, has already been seen (Section IV). The tendencies . 
then devdoped continued to work in increasing power, with-j 
the result thatjTbetween 200 and 260, the chiux^h as an or-/ 
ganization took on most of the constitutional features which 
were to characterize it throughout the period of the dominance 
of Grsco-Roman culture. Above all, this development was 
manifested in the increase of the power of the bishops. The 
drcumstances of the time, the contests with Gnostics and 
Montanists, the leadership of increasing masses of ignorant 
recent converts from heathenism, the necessities of uniformity 
in worship and discipline, all tended to centralize in the bishop 
the rights and authority which, in the first half of the second 
century hacl been the possession of the Chrbtian congregation 
as a whole. , The "gifts of the Spirit," which had been very 
real to the thought of Christians of the apostolic and sub- 


apostolic ages, and which might be possessed by any one, were 
now a tradition rather than a vital reality, llie contest with 
Montanism, among other causes, had led such claims to be re- 
garded witii suspidon. The tradition, however, remained, 
but it was rapidly changing into a theory of official endowment. 
These "gifts" were now the official possession of the dergy, 
.especially of "die bishops. The bishops were tiie~divmely ap- 
pxMnted guaraians of the deposit of the faith, and therefore 
* * ' Those who could determine what was heresy. They were the 
leaders of worship — a matter of constantly increasing impor- 
j tance with the growing conviction, wide-spread by the b^^inning 
i of the third century, that the ministry is a priesthood. They 
jwere the disciplinary officers of the congregation — ^though their 
authority in this respect was not firmly fixed — able to say when 
the sinner needed excommunication and when he showed suffi- 
cient repentance for restoration. As given full expre^iooL by 
\ Cyprian of Carthage, about 250 (ante, p. 70), the foim3ation 
of the chimjh is the imity of tiie bidnqra. 
[ The Christians of a particular city had been regarded, cer- 
tainly from the beginning of the second century, as constituting 
a single community, whether meeting in one congregation or 
many. As such they were under the guidance of a single bishop. 
Ancient civilization was strongly urban in its political consti- 
tution. The adjacent country district looked to its neighbor- 
ing city. Christianity had been planted in the dties. By 
efforts going out from them, congregations were fonneS"in the 
surrounding villages, which came at first into the city for their 
worship;^ but as they grew larger must increasingly have met 
by theniselves. Planted by Christians from the dties, they 
were under the oversight of the city bishop, whose immediate 
field of superintendence was thus growing, by the third century, 
into a diocese. In some rural portions of the East, notably 
Syria and Asia Minor, where city influence was relativdy weak, 
country groups of congregations developed before the end of 
the third century, headed by a rural bishop, a chorepiskopos 
— XP^perrfaKtyn'o^ — ^but this system was not of large growth, nor 
were these country bi^ops deemed the equals in dignity of their 
city brethren. The sjrstem did not spread to the West at' this 
time, though introduced there in the Middle Ages, only to prove 

1 Justin, Apoloffy, 67 ; Ayer, p. 35. 


Jo Cyprian. tV ** ppiampufi* was a iinji^., ftnH PJi^li hislinp a J 

representative of all its powers, on an equality with alTodier I 
bishops. Yet even in his time this theory was becoming im- 
practicable. The bishops of the great, politically influentiaTj 
cities of the empire were attaining a superiority in dignity over 1 
others, which those of Rome even more than the rest were striv- 1 
ing to translate into a superiority of jurisdiction. Rome,! 
Alexandria, Antioch, Carthage, and Ephesus, with Jerusalem 
by reason of religious sentiment, had an outstanding eminence, 
and Rome most of all. Besides these £^*eater posts, the bishop 
oi the capital city of each province was becoming to be looked F 
upon ais having a certain superiority to those of lesser towns ini 
his region ; but the full development of the metropolitan dig*l 
nity was not to come till the fourth century, and earlier in t^ 
Ea5t than in the West. 

By the beginning of the third century clergy were sharply 1 
distinguished from laity. The technical use of the words latkoaj 
— \cuKdi — and kleros — fcKrjpo^ — ^was a gradual development, as 
was the distinction which tiiey implied. The earliest Christian 
employment of the former was by Clement of Rome.^ The lat- 
ter occurs in 1 Peter 5', in wholly untechnical usage. But KXrjpo^ 
and its Latin equivalent, ordo, were the common expressions f ofn 
the ''orders'' of magbtrates and dignitaries of the Roman Em- { 
pire. It is probably from such popular usage that they come 1 
into Christian employment. The letter of the churches of 
Lyons and Vienne, giving a description of the persecution of 
177, spoke of the ''order'' of the martyrs—^X^/wv.^ TertuUian 
wrote of "clerical order" and "ecclesiastical orders." • By 
his time the distinction had become practically fixed ; even if 
Tertullian himself could recall, for purposes of argument, the 
early doctrine of the priesthood of all believers,^ "are not even 
we laics priests?" * 

Admission to clerical office was by ordination, a rite which^ 
certainly goes back to the earliest days of the church, at least 
as a sign of the bestowal of charismatic gifts, or separation for; 
a special duty/ The cnrdinary process of the choice of a^ 
bishop by the middle of the third century was a nomination 

» ©3-07 ; in 1 Clem., 40. * Euaebius, Church History, 5 : V\ 

' Monogamy, 12. * Charity, 7. 

» Compare 1 Peter 2»; Rev. V. 

•Acts 6«, 13»; alao 1 Tim. 4'S 5"; 2 Tim. V. 


^ the otbex clergy, espedaUy the presbyters, of the aty; 
le approvid of naghboring bishops, and ratification or dec- 
9D by the congregation.^ Ordination folloved At the hands 
Hrt-le8St~one abeady a bishop — a number of episcopal ordoin- 
3 which had become fixed at a normal minimum of three l^ 
e end of the third century. The control of the choice of the 
"esbyters, deacons, and lower clergy lay in^e hand nt thrjr 
cal bishopry whom they were orduned.' [ The presbj^ta^ 
ere the- l^Bi^V ft3i^^^> -Wtdr^his Whsent tney acWnia^ 
nd Ac-wrcraments^'They preachS^ As (.liujffi^alioM 
BlfrTllore som^fous m a tSlj; »yiu!Tytlr would be placed in 
unediate charge of each, and their importance thereby eor 
meed, from its relative depres^n, immediately after the liae 

the monarchical episcopate. There was no fixed limit to 
leir nmnber. fThe dcaoona were immediately responsible to 
le bishop, ana-were hia as^tants in the care of tiie^^[XJOintnd 
iier fihandal concerns, in aiding in the wordnp andt Rs^Hh e. 
hey often stood in closer practical relations to him than the 
■esbyters. At Rome, the number of the deacons was seven, 

remembrance of Ada GK When Bishop Fabian (236-250) 
lopted the civil division of the city as its fourteen charity 
stricta, he ^jpointed seven sub-deacons m addition to the 
ven deacons, that the primitive uumbe r might not be sur- 
tssed. Sub-deacons also existed in Carthage in the time trf 
ypriim, and quite generally at a littie later period. In many 
trts of the church there was no fixed rule as to the number (^ 

Biabopej -pcesbyters, and deacons constituted the n;iajor 
ders. Below them tiiere stood in the first half of the third 
nturyTthe minor ord^s!\ In the general absence of all sta- 
itical information as to 'the early church, a letter of Bishop 
omelius of Rome, written about 251, is of high value as 
lowing conditions in that important church. Under the sngle 
shop in Rome tliere were forty-six presbyters and seven 
»cons. Below them, constituting what were soon to be 
lown as the minor orders, were seven sub-deacons, for^-two 
»lytes, and fift^-two exorcists, readers, and janitors.* More 

> CypriaD, LeUera, El-66', 66-68«, 67*. '. 
* Ihid., 2»-2S, 33-3fi>, 34-40. 
*TertulliaD, Baptism, 17; Aftr, p. 167. 
•" ■■ !, CAii«AHMtory,6:*a". 

<^J^ » ■• , ». .* • -^Jt^v 


than fifteen hundred dependents were supported by the churchy 
which may have included thirty thousand adherents. Some. 
of these offices were of very ancient origin. Those of readers/ • 
and exorcists had originaUy been regarded as charismatic! 
Entorcisits continued to be so viewed in the Orient, and were 
not there properly officers. By the time of Cyprian the 
er's office was thought a preparatory step toward that of pres- 
byter.* TTie exorcist's task was to drive out evil spirits, in 
whose mpvalent working the age finnly^belie'Ved. Of the 
duties oH^colytesJittle is known save that th^wec^ assistants ^ 
in serviceand aidJ^ T^^y ^fiW TOt-toJieJound in ihe'Orienij. 
The janitors were Specially important when it became the 
custennd ^B iteiit nn i w -bttt- tiie bapti aed to the more sacred 
parts of the service. In the East, though not in the West, i 
deaconesses were to be found who were reckoned in a certain \ 
~ sense-«»tif the defj^F* Their origin was probably charismatic l 
..jAd^WBS-of high antiquity.* Their tasks were those of care for • 
women, especially the ill. Besides these deaconesses there were 
to be found in the churches, both East and West, a class known 
as ^^ widows,'' whose origin was likewise ancient.' Their duties 
were prayer and aid to the sick, especially of their own sex. 
They were held in high honor, though hardly to be reckoned 
properly as of the " clergy." All these were supported, in whole I 
or in part, by the gifts of the congregation, which were of large t 
amount, both of eatables and of money.^ These gifts were) 
looked upon, by the time of Cyprian, as '^ tithes," and were all 
at the disposal of the bishop.^ By the middle of the third cen- 
tury the higher clergy were expet^ted to give their whole time 
to the work of the ministry;* yet even bishops sometimes shared 
in secular business, not always of a commendable character. 
The lower clergy could still engage in trades. It is evident,"^ 
however, that though the andent doctrine of the priesthood 
^dt aUbelleV'^ry might stilhoea^ionally be r^nembered, it had a 
purely theoretical value. In practical Christian life the dergy, 
by the middle of the third century were a distinct, dose-knit 
spiritual rank, on whom the laity were religiously dependent, \ 
and who were in turn supported by laymen's gifts. J 

» LeUen, 33». « BomaiM W. ' " » 1 "Tim. 6». ". 

« Teaching, 13; Justin, Apoiogy, 67; TertuUian, Apology, 39; Ayer, pp. 

• LeUers, (MkI^ * Cypnan, Lapsed, 6. 



Jready, by the time of Justin (153), the primitive division 
vorahip into two assemblies, one for prayer and instruction 
1 the other for the Lord's Supper in connectioD with a com- 
a meal had ceased. The Lord's Supper was sow the crown- 
act of the service of worship and edification.' Its separo- 
i from the common meal was now complete. The course of 
elopment during the succeeding century was determined 
the prevalence of ideas drawn from the mystery religions, 
ire is no adequate groimd to believe that there was inten- 
lal imitation. Christians of the last half of the second and 
third centuries lived in an atmosphere highly charged with 
uences sprung from these faiths. It was but natural that 
y should look upon their own worship from Uie same point 
view. It 19 probable that already existing tendencies in 
I direction were strongly reinforced by the great growth of 
church by conversion from heathenism in the first half of 
third century. 

]Tie church came to be more and more regarded as possessed 
life-giving mysteries, under the superintendence and dis- 
sation of the clergy. Inquirers were prepared f or initiatio n 
instruction — the catechumens. Such preparation, m aome 
ree, had existed from' the «postolic days. It was now sys- 
latized. Origeu taught in an already celebrated school in 
xandria in 203. Cyprian shows that in Carthage, by about 
, such instruction was in charge of an officer designated by 
bish<^.* Instruction was followed by the great initiatory 
of baptism (see Section XIII), which granted admission to 
propitiatory sacrifice of the life-giving mystery of the Lord's 
iper (see Section XIV). As in the time of Justin, the other 
nenta of worship consisted of Scripture reading, preaching, 
yers, and hymns. These were open to all honest inquirers. 
; analogy of the mystery religious barred all but those 
iate or about to be initiate from presence at baptism or the 
d's Supper, and led to a constant augmentation of the 
uation placed on these rites as the most sacred elements of 
■ship. Whether the custom had arisen by the third century 
regarding these sacraments as a secret discipline, in which 
exact words of the Creed and of the Lord's Prayer were for 
Justin, ApOogy, 87 ; Ayer, p. 36. * LeUera, 23-39. 


the first time imparted to the baptized, and of which no men- 
tion was to be made to the profane, is micertain. Such usages 
were wide-spread in the fourth and fifth centuries. Already in 
the third the forces were at work which were to lead to the 

Sunday was the chief occasion of worship, yet services were 
beginning to be held on week-days as well. Wednesday and 
Friday, as earlier (ante, p. 43), were days of fasting. The great 
event of the year was the Easter season. The period immedi- 
ately before was one of fasting in commemoration of Christ's 
sufferings. Customs differed in various parts of the empire. 
In Rome a forty hours^ fast and vigil was held in remembrance 
of Christ's rest in the grave. This was extended, by the time 
of the Council of Niceea (325) to a forty days Lent. All fasting 
ended with the dawn of Easter morning, and the Pentecostal 
period of rejoicing then began. In that time there was no 
fasting, or Imeeling in prayer in public worship.^ Easter eve 
Was l^e favorite season for baptism, that the newly initiate 
might participate in the Easter joy. Beside these fixed seasons, 
the martyrs were commemorated with celebration of the Lord's 
Supper annuaUy on the days of their deaths.' Prayers for the 
dead in general, and their remembrance by offerings on the 
anniversaries of their decease, were in use by the early part of 
the third century.' Relics of martyrs had been held in high 
veneration since the middle of the second century.^ The full I 
development of saint-worship had not yet come; but the! 
church was honoring with peculiar devotion the memory of 
the athletes of the Christian race who had not coimted their 
lives dear unto themselves. 


Baptism is ^M fir ^^"^ r.hriflfini^ify The rite gave to John,l 
tBe "Forerunner," his name. He baptized Jesus. His dis-J 
cipler-and. those of - Jeeue baptized, though Jesus Himself did 
not.^ The origin of the rite is uncertain ; but it was probablyf 

^ TertulUan, Corona, 3. 

> Letter of the Church of Smyrna on Martyrdom of Polycarp, 18 ; Cyprian, 
Letters, 33-39*; 36-12>. 

* TertuUian, Corona, 3 ; Monogamy, 10. 
' Letter of Smyrna, aa cited, 18. 
»Jo^3", 4». «. 


I a spiritualization of the old Levitical washings. Jewish teaching, 

traceftbte probably to a period as early as the time of Christ, 

required proselytes to the Hebrew faith not merely to be cir- 

ised, but to be baptized.* It seems probable that John 

ot invent the rite, and simply used contemporary practice. 

is a fitting symbol of the spiritual purification that fol- 

1 the repentance that he preached. The mystery reli^cHis 

equivalent rites {ante, p. 10) ; but so purely Jewish was 

primitive Christianity to which baptism belongs, that it 

»nceivable that they should have had any effect on the 

1 of the practice, though they were profoundly to influence 

ivelopment on Gentile soil. Peter represents baptism as 

ite of admission to the church, and to the rcceptioB of the 

Spirit.* As the sacrament of admission baptism at 

stood till the religious divisions of post-ReformatioD 

It ao stands for the vast majority of Christiana at 


th Paul, baptism was not merely the symbol of cleansing 
sin,' it Involved a new relation to Christ,* and a partidpa- 
ii His death and resurrection.' lliougb Paul apparently 
at thinkrbaptiim aooen^ to salvation* his view approached 
of the initiations of the mystery religions and his con- 
in Corinth, at least, held an almost magical conception 
e rite, being baptized in behalf of their dead friends, 
the departed might be benefited thereby.' Baptism soon 
to be regarded as indispensable. The writer of the 
ii Gospel represented Christ as declaring : "Verily, I say 
thee, except a man be bom of water and the Spirit, he 
It enter the Kingdom of God."' The appendix to Mark 
red the risen Chrbt as saying : " He that believeth and is 
zed shall be saved." * This conviction but deepened. To 
tas (115-140), baptism was the very foundation of the 
:h, which "is builded upon waters," '" Even to the phil- 
lical Justin (153) baptism effected "regeneration" and 
nination." " In Tertullian's estimate it conv^ed eternal 

; BchUrer, Qachithit dt» JOdUdten VoOcM, 2***-">. 
U 2" ; Bee »tao 2° ; 1 Cor. 12». » 1 Cor. 8". • (M. S**- ■". 
vutnta*; Ct>t.2". • 1 Cor. !'"». ' 1 Cor. Ifi*. 

kn 3». • M^k W*. » YU.. 3». 

N>lo0y> 61 ; Ayer, p. 33. " BapHm, 1. 


tty fliy tJmp. nmApmjiA^ and of Justin* the view was general 
thatfit^tism washed away all previous sins. As in the mystery 
religions it had become the great rite of purification, initiation, 
and rebirth into the eternal life. Hence it could be received 
but once. The only substitute was martyrdom, ''which stands 
in lieu of the fontal bathing, when that has not been received, 
and restores it when lost.**' With the early disciples generally 
baptism was ''i n the name of J esus Christ." * There is no 
mention of l>a ptiflm iiuthcname of the Trinity m the "New 
^TWfljTignt^ PYf¥>pf. in the command attributed to Christ in 
28". That tejct is early, however. It underlies the 
Apostles' Creed, and the practice recorded in the Teaching,'^ 
and by Justin.* The Christian leaders of the third century re- 
tained the recognition of the earlier form, and, in Rome at least, 
baptism in the name of Christ was deemed vaUd, if irregular, 
certainly from the time of Bishop Stephen (254-257).'^ 

Regarding persons baptized, the strong probability is thalH 
till past the middle of the second century, they were tiiose only I 
of years of discretion. The first mention of infant baptism, and] 
an obscure one, was about 185, by Irenseus.^ Tertullian spoke 
distinctly of the practice, but discouraged it as so serious a step 
that delay of baptism was desirable tUl character was formed. 
Hence he doubted its wisdom for the immarried.* Less earnest 
men than Tertullian felt that it was imwise to use so great an 
agency of pardon till one's record of sins was practically made 
up. A conspicuous instance, by no means solitary, was the 
Emperor Constantine, who postponed his baptism till his 
death-bed. To Origen infant baptism was an ap<)stoUc cus- 
torn.'* Cyprian favored its earliest possible reception.^^ Why I 
infant baptism arose there is no certain evidence. Cyprian, I * 
In the letter just c5ted7 argued in its favor from the doctrine of 
original sin. Yet^h(^jJdet guucral apiuion nntrm<3 to have held 
to the innoceifcy of childhood.^^ More probable explanations 
aire' the f eeBffg" that outside the church there is no salvation, 
and the words attributed to Christ in John 3^. Christian par- 

1 Man., AK * Apology, 61. * Tertullian, BapHmt, 16. 

*Ad8 2«; see aIbo 8", 10« 19»; Romam 6»; Oal, 3". 

• Teaching, 7 ; Ayer, p. 38. • Apology, 61 ; Aywr, p. 33. 
' Cyprian, LeUer$, 73-74*. • Heresies, 2 : 22*. 

* BapUsntf 18. " Oom. on Romans, 5. 

u LeUera, 58-64*. ^ Tertullian, Baptism, 18. 





ents would not have their children fail of entering the Kingdom 

iof Grod. Infant baptism did not, however, become miiversal 

>y till the sixth century , largely through the feeling already noted 

^1 in Tertullian, that so cleansing a sacrament should not be 

Plightly used. 

As to the method of baptism, it is probable that the original 
form was by immersion, complete or partial. That is implied 
in Romans 6^ and Coloasiana 2^\ Pictures in the catacombs 
would seem to indicate that the submersion was not always 
complete. The fullest early evidence is that of the Teething: 
''Baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the 
Holy Spirit in living [running] water. But if thou hast not 
living water, then baptize in other water ; and if thou art not 
able in cold, then in warm. But if thou hast neither, then 
pour water upon the head thrice in the name of the Father and 
of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."^ Affusion was, therefore, 
a recognized form of baptism. Cyprian cordially upheld it.' 
> Inmiersion continued the prevailing practice till the late 
^ Middle Ages in the West; in the East it so remains. The 
Teaching and Justin show that fasting and an expression of 
belief, together with an agreement to live the Christian life 
were necessary prerequisites. By the time of TertuUian an 
elaborate ritual had developed. The ceremony began with the 
formal renunciation by the candidate of the devil and all his 
works. Then followed the threefold immersion. On coming 
from the fount the newly baptized tasted a mixture of milk 
and honey, in symbolism of Ins condition as a new-bom babe 
in Christ. To that succeeded anointing with oil and the 
laying on of the hands of the baptizer in token of the reception 
of the Holy Spirit.' Baptism and what was later known as 
>\ confirmation were thus combined. TertuUian also shows the 
^ earliest now known existence of Christian sponsors, i. «., god- 
parents.^ The same customs of fasting and sponsors chi^ac- 
terized the worship of Isis. 

In the apostolic age baptism was administered doubtless 
not only by Apostles and other lekders, but widely by those 
cfaarismatiaiUy eminent in the church. By 110-117 Ignatius, 
in the interest of unity, was urging, ^'it is not lawful apart 

1 7 ; Ayet, p. 38. » LeUen, 76-69". 

* TertuUian, BapHwi, 6^; Conma^ 3. * BaptUm, 18. 


from the bishop either to baptize or to hold a love-feast."^ 
In Tertullian's time, '' of giving it, the chief priest, who is the 
bishop, has the right; in the next place the presbyters and 
deacons . . . besides these even laymen have the right, for 
what is equally received can be equally given."' In the Greek , 
and Roman Churches baptism still continues the only sacrament '> 
which any Christian, or indeed any seriously intending person, 
can administer in case of necessity. 

The middle of the third century saw a heated discussion over 
the validity of heretical baptism. Tertullian had regarded it 
as worthless;' and his was undoubtedly the prevalent opinion 
of his time. After the Novatian schism (see p. 102) Bishop 
Stephen of Rome (254-257) advanced tiie claim that baptism, 
even by heretics, was effectual if done in proper form. His 
motives seem to have been partly the growing feeling that 
sacraments are of value in themselves, irrespective of the char- 
acter of the administrant, and partly a desire to facilitate the 
return of the followers of Novatian. This interpretation was 
energetically resisted by Cyprian of Carthage, and Firmilian 
of Csesarea in Cappadocia,^ and led to certain important asser- 
tions of the authority of the Roman bishop. The deaths of 
Stephen and Cyprian gave a pause to the dispute; but the 
Roman view grew into general acceptance in the West. The 
£ast reached no such imanimity of judgment. 


Some account has been given of the early development of 
the doctrine of the liOrd's Supper (ante, pp. 23, 40). It has 
been seen that "breaking of bread," in connection with a com-* 
mon meal, was a Christian practice from the beginning. From 
the time of Paul, certainly, it was believed to be by command i 
of Christ Himsetf, and in peculiar remembrance of Him and of 
His death. Outside the New Testament three writers refer 
to the Lord's Supper before the age of Irenseus. Of these the 
account in the Teaching J^ reflects the moat primitive Christian 
conditions. It provides a simple liturgy of gratitude. Thou 
" didst bestow upon us spiritual food and drink and eternal life 

* Smyrna, 8 ; Ayer, p. 42. * Baptism, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167. 

< Baptism, 15. < Cyprian, Letters, 60-76. 

•9-11; Ayer, p. 38. 


through Thy Son/' From Christ come "lite and knowledge/' 

A more mystical explanation of the Supper, however, b^;an 

early. John Q^'^-^ teaches the necessity of eating the flesh and 

driiddng the blood of Christ to have "life." To Ignatius the 

Supper ''is the medicine of immortality, and the antidote that 

we should not die but live forever/'^ Justin affirmed, "for 

not as common bread and common drink do we recdve these ; 

but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been 

made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for 

our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food 

which is blessed by the prayer of His Word, and from which 

our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh 

and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh." ' By Justin's 

time (153) the Lord's Supper was already separated from the 

common meal. Iren«us continued and developed the thought 

of the fourth Gospel and of Ignatius that the Supper confers 

^'life." "For as the bread, which is produced from the earth, 

when it receives the invocation of God, is no longer common 

bread but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and 

heavenly ; so also our bodies, when they receive the Eucharist, 

are no longer corruptible, having the hope of the resunec- 

rtion to eternity." ' In how far these conceptions were due 

!to the mystery religions, with their teaching that sharing a 

meal with the god is to become a partaker of tiie divine nature, 

"^ l^is difficult to decide; but they undoubtedly grew out of the 

. same habit of thought. It may be said that, by the middle 

V I I of the second century, the conception of a real presence of Christ 

^^' tin the Supper was wide-spread. It was stronger in the West 

than in the East, but ultimately it won its way also there. 

In early Christian thought not only were believers them- 
! selves "a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God," ^ but all 
actions of worship were sacrificial. The leaders of the church 
, "offered the gifts of the bishop's office." ^ All its membership 
•could "do good and communicate," "for with such sacrifices 
-God is well pleased."* In particular, the Lord's Supper was 
41 "sacrifice,"' and this feeling was doubtless strengthened by 
the circumstance that it was the occasion of the gifts of the 

^Eph., 20. * Apology, 66; Ayer, p. 34. 

s Herenes, 4 : 18^ Ayer, pp. 138, 139. * Romans 12^ 

» 1 Clem., 44 ; Ayer, p. 37. • Heb. 13". 
' Teaching, 14 ; Ayer, p. 41. 



congregation for those in need.^ As late a writer as Irenieus, 
while viewing the Lord's Supper as pre-eminently a '^ sacrifice/' 
still held that all Christian actions are also of a sacrificial 
character.^ Christianity^ however, was in a world where sacri- 
ficial conceptions of a much more definite nature were familiar 
in the religions on every hand. Sacrifice demands a priest. 
With TftrfiiHiftTi thft f^nn sacerdos first comes int oAill use.' 

With Cyprian the developed doctrine of the Lord's Supper 
as a sacrifice offered to God by a priest has been fully reached. 
" For if Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, is Himself the chief 
priest of God the Father, and has first offered Himself a sacri- 
fice to the Father, and has commanded this to be done in com- 
memoration of Himself, certainly that priest truly discharges 
the office of Christ, who imitates that which Christ did ; and 
he then offers a true and full sacrifice in the church when he 
proceeds to offer it according to what he sees Christ Himself 
to have offered." ^ The business of the Christian priest is 
''to serve the altar and to celebrate the divine sacrifices."^ 
Already by Tertullian's time the Lord's Supper was held in 
commemoration of the dead.* Cyprian shows such ''sacri- 
fices" for martyrs.^ The sense of the life-giving quality of 
the Supper led, also, to the custom of infant communion; of 
which Cyprian is a witness.^ Here, as in the doctrine of 
Christ's physical presence, the conception of the Supper as a 
sacrifice to God was earlier in the West than in the East. It 
did not become general in the Orient much before 300. With 
it the "Catholic" conception of the Supper was evident as 
(a) a sacrament in which Christ is really present (the how of ; 
that presence was not to be much discussed till the Middle ( 
Ages), and in which the believer partakes of Christ, being I 
thereby brought into union with Him and built up to the im- I 
mortal life; and (6) a sacrifice offered to God by a priest and \) 
inclining God to be gracious to the living and the dead. Much / 
was still left obscure, but the essentials of the "Catholic" view J 
were already at hand by 253. 

t Justin, Apology f 67 ; Ayer, p. 35. * Heresies, 4 : 17*, 18*. 

« BapUtm, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167. * Letters, 62-63". 

•/Wd., 67*. •ChaslUy, II. 

7 Lstters, 33-39*. • Lapsed, 25. 





The general view of early Christianity was that "if we con- 
fess our ains, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our 
sins." * But there were sins so bad that they could not be for- 
pven, they were "unto death," * Just what this "sin unto 
death" might be, was uncertain. It was one opinion that it 
was rejection of the Holy Spirit. Mark represents Christ as 
saying; "Whosoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit 
hath never forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin" (3**). 
The Teaching held that "any prophet speaking in the Spirit, 
ye shall not try neither discern; for every sin shall be for- 
^ven, but this sin shall not be for^ven."* The general feel- 
ing was, however, that the unforgivable sins were idolatry or 
denial of the faith, murder, and gross licentiousness. The 
first-named was specially hopeless. No severer denunciations 
can be found in the New Testament than those directed by the 
writer of Hebrewt toward such as "crucify to themselves the 
Son of God afresh" {6*-«, lO*"^"). To Tertullian the "deadly 
sina" were seven, "idolatry, blasphemy, murder, adultery, 
fornication, false-witness and fraud." * 

While, by the time of Hennas (115-140), baptism was re- 
garded as cleansing all previous sins, those committed after it, 
of the class just described, were "deadly." But the tendency 
was toward some modification of this strictness. The buidoi 
of Hennas was that, by exception, in view of the near'end of 
the world, one further repentance had been granted after bap- 
tism.* This extended even to adultery.' Yet church prac- 
tice was elsewhere milder, in the second century, than church 
theory. Irenteus gives an account of the reclaming of an 
adulteress, who "spent her whole time in the exercise of public 
confes^on." ' In Tertullian's time the feeling was that there 
was one repentance possible for deadly sins after baptism — 
"a second reserve of aid against hell" — "now obce for all, 
>ause now for the second time, but never more." * Restora- 
n was to be, if at all, only after a humiliating public confes- 
n, an " exoffiologesis," "to feed prayers on fastings, to groan, 
weep and make outcries unto the Lord your God ; to bow 

1 John V. • Ibid., 6". • 11 ; Ayer, p. 40. 

AgainH Maroon, 4*. > Man., 4' ; Ayer, pp. 43, 44. 

tbid., 4'. ' Hereatt, 1 : 13*. ' Rtpmianet, 7, 12- 


before the feet of the presbyters, and kneel to God's dear 
ones." * Yet practice was far from universally as rigorous as 
Tertullian would imply. 

The question inevitably arose as to when a sinner had done 
enough to be restored. The feeling appeared early that the 
absolving power was divinely lodged in the congregation.^ 
This autiiority was also regarded as directly conunitted to 
Peter, and, by implication, to church ofiBcers, when such devel- 
oped.' But, curiously, a double practice prevailed. About to 
be martyrs and confessors, i. e., those who endured tortures 
or imprisonment for their faith, were deemed also able to ab- 
solve because filled with the Spirit.^ This twofold authority 
led to abuse. Many of the confessors were lax. Cyprian, in 
particular, had trouble on this score.' Naturally bishops tried 
to repress this right of confessors ; but it remained a popular 
opinion till the cessation of persecution. Absolution ultimately 
raised the question of a scale of penance, a standard as to when 
enough had been done to justify forgiveness, but that develop- . 
ment is beyond the limits of the present period. It is not to 
be foimd tQl about 300. 

These restorations, which were particularly of the licentious,* 
were.deemed exceptional, however conunon; and it came as 
a shock, at least to a rigid Montanist. ascetic like Tertullian, 
when the aggressive Roman bishop, Kallistos (217-222), (ante, 
p. 75), who had himself been a confessor, issued a declaration 
in his own name, which is a landmark in the development of > 
papal authority, that he would absolve sins of the flesh on a * 
proper repentance.^ This was an official breach in the popular 
list of ''sins imto death," whatever actual breach earlier prac- 
tice may have made. 

In common judgment, denial of the faith was the worst ofj 
these offenses, and not even Kallistos had promised pardoiJ 
for that. The question was raised on a tremendous scale byi 
the Decian persecution. Thousands lapsed and sought re»-( 
toration after the storm was over. In Rome, Bishop Fabian 
died a martyr in 250. The Roman Church was rent on the 
question of their treatment. A dispute beginning in personal 
antipathies) not at first involving the lapsed, resulted in the 

» ReperUanee, 9. « Matt. W^M, » TWA, »•• ". 

« TertuUian, Modesty, 22. > Lettera, 17-^26, 20-21, 21-22, 22-27. 
• Tertullian, Modesty, 22, ' Tertullian, Modesty, 1. 


loice by the majority of Comeliua^ comparative nobody, as 
isbop over Novatiaa, the most distinguished theologian in 
ome (arUe, p. 75). The minority supported Novatian. "Die 
lajority soon advocated the milder treatment of the lapsed, 
hile Novatian advanced to the rigorist position. Novatian 
sgan a schism that lasted till tiie seventh century, and 
lunded protesting churches wide-spread in the empire. He 
mewed the older practice and denied restoration to all guilty 
f "sins unto death." His was a lost cause. Synods in Rome 
id Carthage in 251 and 263, representative of the majorily, 
srmitted the restoration of the lapsed, under strict conditions 
: penance. Though the question was to arise agun in the 
srsecution under Diocletian, which began in 303,* and though 
med practice long continued in different parts of the church, 
le decision in Rome in 251 was ultimately regulative. AH ^ns 
ere thereby forgivable. The old distinction continued in name, 
lit it was henceforth only between great sins and small. 

In iq>ostolic times the chureh was undoubtedly concaved 
1 composed exclusively of experiential Christians.* There 
ere bad men who needed discipline in it,* but Paul could paint 
1 ideal picture of the church as "not having spot or wnnkle 
- any such thing." * It was natural that this should be so. 
hiistianity came as a new faith. Those who embraced it 
id so as a result of personal conviction, and at the cost of no 
ttle sacrifice. It was long the feeling that the church is a 
immunity of saved men and women. Even then, it was true 
lat many were unworthy. This is Hermas'a complaint. The 
dest sermon outside the New Testament has a modem sound. 
For the Gentiles when they hear from our mouth l&e oracles 
F God, marvel at them for their beauty and greatness; then, 
hen they discover that our works are not worthy of the words 
hich we speak, forthwith they betake themselves to blasphemy, 
lying that it is an idle story and a delusion." ^ Yet, in spite 
f the recognition of these facts the theory continued. Biit the 

* The Mditiaa schisni, Dooatiats. 

'Roman* V; 1 Cor- V; 2 Cor. V; Col. I'. 

» E. g., I Cor. S>-". • Eph. 5". » 2 Clem., 13. 


increasing age of Christianity forced a change of view. Byi 
the beginning of the third century there were many whose 
parents, possibly remoter ancestors, had been experiential 
Christians, but who, though they attended public worship,* 
were Christians in little more than in name. What were they ? 
They did not worship with the heathen. The public regarded 
them as Christians. Some of them had been baptized in in- 
fancy. Had the church a place for them? Their numbers 
were such that the church was compdled to feel that it had. 
Its own conception of itself was altering from that of a com-H 
munion of saints to that of an agency for salvation. This J 
change was evident in the teaching of Bishop Kallistos of Rome 
(217-222). He cited the parable of the tares and the wheat,^ 
and compared the church to the ark of Noah in which were 
** things dean and undean.'' ' The earlier and later theories 
thus indicated divide the allegiance of modem Christendom 
to this day. 

The rejection of the Montanists and the decay of the expec- 
tation of tlie speedy end of the world undoubtedly greatly fa- 
vored the(spread of worldliness in the church?-a tendency much 
increased oy its rapid growth from heatheiV converts between 
202 and 250. As common Christian practice became less 
strenuous, however, asceticism grew as tiie ideal of the more 
serious. Too much must not be expected of common Chris- 
tians. The Teaching, in the first half of the second centiuy, 
had exhorted : ''If thou art able to bear the whole yoke of the 
Lord, thou shalt be perfect ; but if thou art not able, do that 
which thou art able" (6). Hennas (115-140) had taught that 
a man could do more Uian Grod conmianded, and would receive 
a proportionate reward.' These tendendes but increased.] 
They were, however, greatly furthered by a distinction be-i 
tween the "advice" and the requirements of the Grospd, whichj 
was clearly drawn by Tertullian* and Qrigen.* 

While the requirements of Christiianity are binding on all 
Christians, the advice is for those who would live the holier life. 
On two main phases of conduct the Grospel was thought to 
give such coimsds of perfection. Christ said to the rich young 
man: ''If thou wouldest be perfect, go, sell that thou hast, 
and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." * 

» MaU. 13«*» « Hippolytua, RefiUatian, 9». » Sim., 5«. ». 

* To hia Wife, 2K » Cam, an Romans, 3». • MaU. 19». 


He also declared that some are '^ eunuchs for the kingdom of 
heaven's sake/' and that, ^'in the' resurrection they neither 
many nor are given in marriage, but are as angels."^ Paul 
said ''to the unmarried and to widows, it b good for them 
^if they abide even as I." * Voluntary poverty and volimtary 
ilibacy were, therefore, deemed advice impossible of fulfil- 
lent by all Christians, indeed, but conferring special merit 
m those who practised them. About these two conceptions 
early Christian asceticism centred, and they were to be the 
{foundation stones of monasticism when that system arose at 
close of the third century. As the clergy should set a 
specially good example, not only was second marriage discour- 
aged from the sub-apostolic age; ' but, by the beginning of the 
third century, marriage after entering on office was deemed 
unallowable.^ The life of celibacy, poverty, and contempla- 
tive retirement from the activities of the world was admired 
as the Christian ideal, and was widely practised, though as yet 
without separation from society. The road to full monasticism 
had been fairly entered. Probably the most unfortunate as- 
pect of this double ideal was that it tended to discourage the 
efforts of the ordinary Christian. 


The end of the period of persecution affected by the edict of 
Gallienus, in 260, was followed by more than forty years of 
practical peace. Legally, the church had no more protection 
than before, and the able Emperor Aurelian (270-275) is said 
to have intended a renewal of persecution when prevented by 
death. Even with him it apparently did not come to the 
proclamation of a new hostile edict. The chief feature of this 
'(epoch was the rapid growth of Christianity. By 300 Christi- 
anity was effectively represented in all parts of the empire. 
Its distribution was very unequal, but it was influential in the 
central provinces of political importance, in Asia Minor, Mace- 
donia, Syria, Egypt, northern Africa, central Italy, southern 
Gaul and Spain. Nor was its upward progress in the social 

» MaU„ 19", 22" « 1 Car. 7». 

* 1 Tim. 3*, Bee also Hennas, Man., A\ against second marriage of 
Christians in general. 

* Hippol3rtus, Refutation, 9^. 



scale less significant. During this period it won many oflScersi / 
of government and imperial servants. Most important of all J 
it began now to penetrate the army on a considerable scale/ 
As late as 246-248 the best that Origai could say in reply to y, 
Cdsus's criticism that Christians failed of their duty to the '^ 
state by refusal of army service, was that Christians did a 
better thing by praying for the success of the Emperor.^ Origen 
also expresses and defends Christian unwillingness to assume 
the burdens of governmental office.^ Even then Christians had 
long been foimd in the Roman armies;' but Origen undoubt- 
edly voiced prevalent Christian feeling in the middle of the 
third century. By its end both Christian feelmg and practice 
had largely changed. i 

This period of rapid growth was one of greatly increasing I 
conformity to worldly influences also. How far this sometimes ' 
went a single illustration may show. The Council of Elvira, 
now Granada, in Spain (c. 313), provided that Christians who 
as ma^^trates wore the garments of heathen priesthood could 
be restored after two years' penance, provided they had not 
actually sacrificed or paid for sacrifice.^ 

As compared with the first half of the third century, its 
latter portion was a period of little literary productivity or 
theologic originality in Christian circles. No names of the^ \t^ 
first rank appeared. The most eminent was that of DionysiuSp "^ ' 
who held the bishopric of Alexandria (247-264), a pupil of Origen 
and like him for a time head of the famous catechetical school. 
Through his writings the influence of Origen was extended, 
and the great theologian's thoughts were in general dominant 
in that period in the East. Dionysius combated the wide- . \ 
spread Eastern Sabellianism. He also began the practice of \ ' 
sending letters to his clergy, notifying them of the date of r 
Easter — a custom soon largely developed by the greater bish- i 
oprics, and made the vehicle of admonition, doctrinal defini- -^ 
tion, and controversy. Be^de the Sabellianism, which Dio- 
nysius combated, Dynamic Monarchianism was vigorously rep- 
resented in Antioch by Paul of Samosata till 272 (ante, p. 72). 
This administratively gifted bishop held a high executive posi- 
tion under Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, to whom Antioch be- 
longed for a period before her overthrow by the Emperor 

> CeUua, 8". > Ibid., 8^. 

' E. g,, Tertullian, Corona, 1. ' Canon, 55. 


Auidian. Paul's opponents, being unable to deprive him of 

possession of the church building, appealed to Aurelian, who 

decided that it rightfully belonged to ''those to whom the 

\ bishops of Italy and of the city of Rome should adjudge it." ^ 

j Doubtless AuiHelian was moved by political considerations in 

/ this adjudication, but this Christian reference to imperial au- 

/ thority, and the Emperor's deference to the judgment of Rome 

\ were significant. 

With Antioch of this period is to be associated the foundation 
of a school of theology by Lucian, of whom little is known of 
biographical detail, save that he was a presbyter, held aloof 
from ^e party in Antioch which opposed and overcame Paul 
of Samosata, taught there from c. 275 to c. 303, and died a 
martyr's death in 312. Arius and Eusebius of Nicomedia were 
his pupils, and the supposition is probable that his views were 
largely reproduced in them. Like Qrigen, he busied himself 
with textual and exegetical labors on tiie Scriptures, but had 
little liking for the allegorizing methods of the great Alexan- 
drian. A simpler, more grammatical and historical method 
of treatment both of text and doctrine characterized his teach- 



I The latter half of the third century was the period of the 
Ereatest influence of Mithraism in the empire. As the Sol 
Ineictus, Mithras was widely worshipped, and this cult was 
popular in the army and favored by the Emperors who rose 
from its ranks. [Two other forces of importance arose in the 
? religious world. The first was Neo-Platonism. Founded in Al- 
' exandria by Ammonius Saccas ( ?-c. 245), its real devi§tcSI5rwas 
motinus (205-270), who settled in Rome about 244. Fromhim, 
me leadership passed tc/Porghyry (233-304). Neo-Platonism 
was a pantheistic, mysti^7nteipretation of Platonic thoughts. 
God is simple, absolute existence, all perfect, from whom the 
lower existences come. From Him the Nous (vov^) emanates 
Kke-the Logos in the theology of Qrigen. From the Nous the 
world-soul derives being, and from that individual souk. From 
the world-soul the realm of matter comes. Yet each stage is 
inferior in the amount of being it possesses to the one above — 

^ Eusebius, Ckiarch HisUjfy^ 7 : 30^*. 


bas less of reality— leaching In gradations from God^ who is 
all-perfect, to matter which, as compared with Him, is nega- ^ 
tive. The morals of Neo-Platonism, like those of later Greek - 
philosophy generally, were ascetic, and its conception of sal- 
vation was that of a rising of the soul to God in mystic con- 
templation, the end of which was union with the divine. Neo- 
Platonism was much to influence Christian theology, notably 
that of Augustine. Its founders were not conspicuously or- 
ganizers, however, and it remained a way of thinking for the 
relatively few rather than an inclusive association of the many. 
Far otiierwise was it with a second movement, that of Mani;/ 
chseism. Itsfounder, Mani, waa^rn in Persia in. 215 or 21^ 
began his preacEmg in Babylon in 242, anH was clUcffied iA 
276 or 277. Strongly based on the old Persian dualism, Mani- 
dueism was also exceedmgly syncretistic. It received ele- 
ments from Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Judaism, and Chris- 
tianity. Light and darkness, good and evil are eternally at 
war. Its conception of the relations of spirit and matter, and 

of salvation, in many ways resembled those of Gnosticism.^ 

Man is essentially a material prison house of the realm of evil,^ 
in which some portion of the realm of light is confined. Hence 
salvation is based on right knowledge as to the nature of this j 
bondage, and desire to return to the realm of light, coupled ; 
with extreme ascetic rejection of all that belongs to the sphere 
of darkness, especially the physical appetites and desires. Its 
worship was as simple as its asceticism was strict. Its member- 
ship was in two classes, the perfecty-dwayckcelatiyely few, who 
practised its full austerities ; and the hearers, who accepted its 
teachings, but with much less strictness of practice — ^a distinc- 
tion not unlike that between monks and ordinary Christians % 
in the church. Its organization was fairly centralized and rigid, l 
In Manichfieism Christianity had a real rival. Its spread was f 
rapid in the empire, and it absorbed not only many of the fol- 
lowers of Mithraism, but the remnants of Christian-Gnostic 
sects, and other early heresies. Its great growth was to be in 
the fourth and fifth centuries, and its influence was to be felt 
till the late Middle Ages through sects which were heirs of its 
teachings, like the Cathari. 




I In 284 Diocletian became Roman Emperor. A man of the 
humblest origin^ probably of slave parentage, he had a dis- 
tinguished career in the army, and was raised to the imperial 
dignity by his fellow soldiers. Though a soldier-emperor, he 
was possessed of great abilities as a civil administrator, and 
determined to reorganize the empire so as to provide more 
adequate military defense, prevent army conspirades aiming at 
a change of Emperors, and render the intenud administration 
more efficient. To these ends he appointed an old companion- 
in-arms, Maximian, regent of the West, in 285, with die title 
of Augustus, which Diocletian himself bore. In further aid of 
military efficiency he designated, in 293, two "Csesars"— one, 
Constantius Chlorus, on the Rhine frontier, and the other, 
Galerius, on that of the Danube. Each was to succeed ulti- 
mately to the higher post of ^'Augustus.'' AU was held in har- 
monious working by the firm hand of Diocletian. 

In internal affairs the changes of Diodetian were no less 
sweeping. The surviving relics of the old republican empire, 
and of senatorial influence, were now set aside. [The Emperor 
I became an autocrat in the later Byzantine sense. A new divi- 
sion of provinces was effected; and Rome was practically aban- 
doned as the capital, Diocletian making the more conveniently 
^situated Nicomedia, in Asia Minor, his customary residence. 
In character Diocletian was a rude but firm supporter of 
heathenism of the cruder camp type. 

To such a man of organizing abilities, the closely knit, hier- 
archically ordered church presented a serious political problon. 
^It must have seemed a state within the state over which he 
faa;d'no control. Though there had never been aCIfaristian up- 
rising against the empire, and Christianity had held aloof from 
politics to a remarkable degree, the church was rapidly growing 
on numbers and strength. Two courses lay open for a vigorous 
{ruler, either to force it into submission and break its power, or 
!to enter into alliance with it and thus secure political control 
/of the growing organism. The latter was to be the method of 
:X!onstantine ; the former the attempt of Diocletian. No other 
course could be expected from a man of his religious outlook. 
The Eastern Csesar, Galerius, was even more hostile to Chris- 
tianity, and had much influence over Diodetian. To him the 


suggestions of persecution may have been due. The growth of 
Christianity^ moreover, was uniting all the forces of threatened 
heathenism against it; while Diocletian and Galerius were 
disposed to emphasize emperor-worship and the service of the 
old gods. 

Diocletian moved slowly, however. A cautious effort to rid T 
the army and the imperial palace service of Christians was 
followed, beginning in February, 303, by three great edicts of I 
persecution in rapid succession. Churches were ordered de- J 
stroyed, sacred books confiscated, clergy imprisoned and forced # 
to sacrifice by torture. In 304 a fourth edict required all) 
Christians to offer sacrifices. It was a time of fearful pcrsecu* ^ 
^tfom ^.As in the days of Decius there were many martyrs, and 
many who "lapsed." Popular feeling was, however, far less 
hostQe than in previous persecutions. The Christians had be- ^ • 
come better known. TTie severity of the persecution varied' 
with the attitude of the magistrates by whom its pesalties^ere ' 
- ^nfOKed . Cruel in Italy, North Africa, and the Orient," the 
mendly ^'Caesar," Constantius Chlorus, made apparent com- 
pliance in Gaul and Britain by destroying church edificej^^ 
but left the Christians themselves unharmed. He therdby v 
gaineduT)opulflT il>> w ith t h aspi t hi i a^pared that was to redoimd 
to the advantage of his son. 

The voluntary retirement of Diocletian, and the enforced 
abdication of his colleague, Maximian, in 305, removed the 
strong hand of the only man able to master the complex gov- 
ernmental situation. Constantius Chlorus and Galerius now 
became "Augusti," but in the appointment of "Caesars," the 
claims of the sons of Constantius Chlorus and Maxinuan were 
passed over in favor of two prot6g6s of Galerius, Severus and 
Maximinus Daia. Persecution had now practically ceased in 
the West. It continued in increased severity in the East. 
Constantius Chlorus died in 306, and the garrison in York ac- 
claimed his son Constantine as Emperor. On the strength of 
this army support, Constantine forced from Galerius his own 
recognition as "Csesar," with charge of Gaul, Spam, and Britain. 
Soon after Maximian's son, Maxentius, defeated Severus and 
made himself master of Italy and North Africa. The next 
trial of strength in the struggle for the empire to which Con* 
stantine had set himself must be with Maxentius. Its out- 
come would determine the mastery of the whole West. Licin- 


ius, a prot£g6 of Galerius^ succeeded to a portion of the fonner 
possessions of Severus. 

iBefore the decisive contest for the West took place, however, 
GUerius, in conjunction with Constantine and Licinius, issued 
in Apifl, 8H; fm ^iet -rf tokw^^ Christiians-'**Tnr condi- 
tion that nothing is done by them' contrary to discipline." * 
Thfe w«sr/afT)e^t/ a"gradg^g"^conceSion, thdti^" wEy it was 
granted at all by the persecuting Galerius, who was its main 
source, is not wholly evident. Perhaps he had become con- 
vinced of the futility of persecution. Perhaps the long and 
severe illness which was to cost him his life a few days later 
may have led him to believe that some help might come from 
the Christians' God. The latter supposition is given added 
probability because the edict exhorts Christians to pray for 
its authors. 

The death of Galerius in May, 311, left four contestants for 
the empire. Constantine and Licinius drew together by mu- 
tual interest; while Maximinus Daia and Maxentius were 
united by similar bonds. \ Daia promptly renewed jgeraecutic^ 
in Asia and Egypt. \ Maxentius, while not a persecutor, was a 
immeunced partisan of heathenism. ^: Christian sympathy 
naturaUy flowed toward Constantine and Licinius.^ Conistan- 
tine availed himself to the full of its advantages.^ To what 
extent he was now a personal Christian it is impossible to say. 
He had inherited a kindly feeling toward Christia ns. He had 
joined ill the edict of 31 1 . ^ His forces seemed scarceTy adequate 
for the great struggle with Maxentius. He doubtless desired 
the aid of the Christians' God in the none too equal conflict — 
though it is quite probable that he may not then have thought 
of Hun as the only God. Constantine's later affirmation that 
he saw a vision of the cross with the inscription, ''in this sign 
conquer," was a conscious or unconscious legend. But that he 
invaded Italy, as in some sense a Christian, is a fact. A brilliant 
march and several successful battles in northern Italy brought 
him face to face with Maxentius at Saxa Rubra, a little to the 
north of Rome, with the Mulvian bridge across the Tiber be- 
tween his foes and the city. There, on ^jtober 28, 312,^ccurred 
one of the d^sive atnigglfifl of histoiy^ in4¥Uchl!(Iaxeir5uB lost 
the battle and his life. The West was Constantine*s. iTBe 
Christian God, he believed, had given him the victory, and 

^ Euaebius, Chvrch HiHory, 8 : 17* ; Ayer, p. 262. 

i I 


every Christian impulse was confirmed* He was, thenceforth, 
in aU practical respects a Christian, even though heathen em- 
blems still appeared on coins, and he retained the title of 
Pontifex Maximus. 

\ Probably late in 312 Constantme and licinius published in 
MilaiLthft gtfi§t edict jvhich gave complete freedom to Chris- 
l!anity, though it has be5i "preserved" only nr the fbrm ad- 
dressed by Licinius to the Eastern officers.^ | It was no lon_ 
as in 311, one of toleration ; nor did it make Christianity th 
letfetjwTcjf^e empire. It proclaimed absolute freedom o 
conscience, placed Christianity on a fuB l eg al eqnality 
anynreHgion of tte R^man world, and ordered "the^restoratioiL 
of all church property confiscated in the recent persecution.\ 
A few months after the edict was issued, in April, 313, Licinius 
decisively defeated the persecutor, Maximinus Daia, in a battle 
not far from Adrianople, which seemed to the Christians a 
second Mulvian bridge. Two Emperors were, however, one 
too many. Licinius, defeated by Constantine in 314, held 
scarcely more than a quarter of die empire. Estranged from 
Constantine, the favor shown by the latter to Chnstianity 
Licinius increasingly resented. His hostility grew to persecu- 
tion. It was, therefore, with immense satisfaction tiiat the« 
Christians witnessed his final defeat in 1 323. \ Constantine was] 
at last sole ruler of the Roman world. / The church was everyV 
where free from persecution. | Its steadfastness, its faith, ana 
its organization had carried it through its perils. | But, in win-\ 
ning its freedom from its enemies, it had come largely under the 
control of the occupant of the Roman imperial throne. A\ 
fateful union with the state had begun. 1 * 

1 EuBebius, Church History, 10 : 5 ; Ayer, p. 263. ) 




To Constantine's essentially political mind Christianity was 
'the completion of the process of unification which had long 
been in progress in the empire. It had one Emperor, one law, 
and one citizenship for all free men. It should have one re- 
ligion. Constantine moved slowly, however. Though the 
Christians were very unequally distributed and were much 
more numerous in the East than in the West, they were but a 
fraction of the population when the Edict of Milan grants 
them equal rights. The church had grown with great rapidity 
during the peace in the last half of the third century. Under 
imperial favor its increase was by leaps and bounds. That 
favor Constantine promptiy showed. \ By a law of 319 the 
, clergy were exempted from the public olbligations that weighed 
so heavily on the well-to-do portion of the population.^ In 
321 the right to receive legacies was granted, and thereby the 
privileges of the church as a corporation acknowledged.^ The 
same year Sunday work was forbidden to the people of the 
/cities.' In 319 private heathen sacrifices were prohibited.^ 
/ Gifts were made to clergy, and great churches erected in 
Rome, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and elsewhere under imperial 
auspices. Above aD, Constantine's formal transferrence of the 
capital to the rebuilt Byzantium, which he called New Rome, 
but which the world has named in his honor, Constantinople, 
was of high significance. Undoubtedly political and defensive 
in its motives, its religious consequences were far-reaching. 
From its official foundation, in 330, it established the seat of 
empire in a dty of few heathen traditions or influences, situated 
in the most strongly Christianized portion of the world\ It 
left the bishop of Rome, moreover, the most conspicuous man 

* Codex TheodoMnus, 16 : 2< ; Ayer, Stnaree Book, p. 288. 
»/Wd., 16:2*; Ayer, p. 283. 

* Codex JwUnianus, 3 : 12* ; Ayer, p. 284. 

* Codex Theodosianua, : 16< ; Ayer, p. 286. 




in the ancient capital, to which the Latin-speaking West still 
looked with reverence — in a conspicuity wluch was the more 
possible of future importance because it was wholly unintended 
by Constantine, and was spiritual rather than political. Great 
as were the favors which Constantine showed to the church, 
they were only for that strong, close-knit, hierarchically organ- 
ized portion that called itself the "Catholic." The various 
"heretical" sects, and they were still many, could look for no 
bounty from his hands. 

If Christianity was to be a uniting factor in the empire, the 
church must be one. Constantine fotmd that unity seriously 
threatened. In North Africa the persecution under Diocletian 
had led to a schism, somewhat complicated and personal in its 
causes, but resembling that of Novatian in Rome, half a century 
earlier (ante, p. 102). The church there was divided. The strict 
party charged that the new bishop of Carthage, Ceecilian, had re- 
ceived ordination in 311, from the hands of one in mortal sin, 
who had surrendered copies of the Scriptures in the recent per- 
secution. That ordination it held invalid, and chose a counter- 
bishop, Majorinus. His successor, in 316, was the able Donatus 
the Great, from whom the schismatics received the name, Don- 
atists. \ In 313 Constantine made grants of money to the 
"Catholic" clergy of North Africa.^ I In these the Donatists did 
not share, and appealed to the Emperor. A synod held in Rome 
the same year decided against them, but the quarrel was only 
the more embittered. Constantine thereupon mapped out what 
was to be henceforth the imperial policy in ecclesiastical ques- 
tions. He smnmoned a synod of his portion of the empire to 
meet, at public expense, in Aries, in southern Gaul. The church . 
itself should decide the controversy, but under imperial con- I 
trol. Here a large council assembled in 314. The Donatist 
contentions were condemned. Ordination was declared valid 
even at the hands of a personally imworthy cleric. Heretical 
baptism was recognized, and the Roman date of Easter ap- 
proved.* The Donatists appealed to the Emperor, who once 
more decided against them, in 316; and as they refused to yield, 
now proceeded to close their churches and banish their bishops. 
The unenviable spectacle of the persecution of Christians by 
Christians was exhibited. North Africa was in turmoil. Con- 

^ Eusebiiu, Church History, 10 : 6; Ayer, p. 281. 
« See Ayer, p. 291. 


ntine was, however, dissatisfied with the results, and in 321 
mdoned ^e use of force against these schismatics. They 
w rapidly, claming to be the only true church possessed of 
lergy free from "deadly sins" and of the only valid sacra- 
nts. Not till the Mohanunedan conquest did the Oonatists 


I much more serious danger to the unity of the church fhan 
Donattst schism which Constantine encountered war the 
it Arian cbntroversy. It has already been pointed out 
t while the West, thanks to the work of Tertullian and No- 
ian, had reached practical unanimity regarding the unity 
lubstance between Christ and the Father {ante, pp. 69-76), 
East was divided. Origen, still its most dominating the- 
^cal influence, could be quoted in opposing senses. If he 
1 taught the eternal generation of the Son, he bad also held 
n to be a second God and a creature (aide, p. 81). Adop- 
list tendencies per^sted, also, about Antiocb; while Sabel- 
lism was to be found in Egypt. The East, moreover, was 
tiy more interested in speculative theology than the West, 

1 therefore more prone to discussion ; nor can there be any 
ibt that, in the fourth century, much more of iqtellectual 
lity was to be found in the Greek-speaking thaii in the 
in-speaking portion of the empii* 

lie real cause of the stru^e was these vaiying interpreta- 
is; but the actual controversy began in Alexandria, about 
I, in a dispute between Anus and his bishop, Alexander 

2 f-32S). Anus, a pupil of Lucian of Antioch {ante, p. 106), 
) presbyter in charge of the church known as Baucalts. 
was advanced in years and held in high repute as a preacher 
learning, ability, and piety. Monarchian influences im- 
ed in Antioch led him to empha^ze the unity and self- 
tuned existence of God. In so far as he was a follower of 
gen, he represented the great Alexandrian's teaching that 
list was a created being. As such He was not of the sub-| 
ace of God, but was made like other creatures of "nothing."! 
cnigh the first-bom of creatures, and the agent in fashion' 
t^ world, He was not eternal. "The Son has a b^inning, 


but • . • (jod is without beginning/' ^ Christ was, indeed, 
God in a certain sense to Anus, but a lower God, in no way 
one with the Father in essence or eternity. In the incarnation, 
this Logos entered a human body, taking the place of the human 
reasoning spirit. To Arius's thinking, Christ was neither fully y 
God nor fully man, but a terUum qtnd between. , This is what ' 
makes his view wholly unsatisfactory. 

Bishop Alexander was influenced by the other side of Origen's 
teaching. To him the Son was eternal, like in essence to the 
Father, and wholly uncreated.' His view was, perhaps, not 
perfectly dear, but its imlikeness to t]|ftt of Arius b apparent. 
Controversy arose between Arius and Alexander, apparently 
on Anus's initiative. It soon grew bitter, and about 320 or 
321 Alexander held a synod in Alexandria by which Arius and 
a number of his sympathizers were condenmed. Arius appealed 
for help to his fellow pupil of the school of Ludan, the power- 
ful bishop, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and soon found a refuge 
with him. Alexander wxpte widely to fellow bishops, and Arius 
defended his own position, aided by Eusebius. The Eastern 
eodesiastical woM was widdy turmoiled. 

Such was the situation when Constantine's victory over 
lidnius made him master of the East as well as of the West. 
The quarrd threatened the unity of the church which he 
deem^ essential. Constantine therefore sent his chief ecdesi* 
astical adviser, Bishop Hosius of Cordova, in Spain, to Alex- 
andria with an imperial letter, counselling peace and describing 
the issue involved as ''an unprofitable question.'^' The well- 
meant, but bungling effort was vain. Constantine, therefore, 
proceeded to employ the same device he had already made 
use of at Aries in the Donatist dispute. He called a council 
of the entire church. That of Aries had been representative 
of all the portion of the empire then ruled by Constantine. 
Constantine was now master of All the empire, and therefore 
bishops of all the empire were summoned. The principle was 
the same, but the extent of Constantine's enlarged jurisdiction 
made the gathering in Nicsea the f^rst General Council of the 

The council, which assembled in Nicsea in May, 325, has ^ 

^ Arius to Eusebius, Theodoret, Church History, V; A3rer, p. 302. 

* Letter of Alexander, in Socrates, Church Hittory, 1*. 

* Letter in Eusebius, I^e of ConsUmHne, 2*^^'. 


always lived in Christian tradition as the most {important in 
the history of the church. To it the bishops were summoned 
at government expense, accompanied by lower clergy, who did 
not, however, have votes in its decisions. The East had the 
vast preponderance. Of about three hundred bishops present 
only six were from the West. It included three parties. A 
small section, led by Eusebius of Nicomedia, were thorough- 
going Arians. Another small group were equally strenuous 
supporters of Alexander. Tlie large majority, of whom the 
church historian, Eusebius of Ceesarea, was a leader, were not 
deeply versed in the question at issue. Indeed, the majority, 
as a whole, were described by an unsympathetic writer as 
''simpletons."^ As far as they had any opinion, they stood 
on the general basis of the teachings of Origen. Conspicuous 
in the assembly was the Emperor himself, who, though not 
baptized, and therefore not technically a full member of the 
church, was far too eminent a personage not to be wdcomed 

Almost at the beginning of the coimcil a creed presented by 
the Arians was rejected. Eusebius of Csesarea then offered the 
creed of his own church. It was a sweet^sounding confession, 
dating from before the controversy, and was, therefore, wholly 
indefinite as to the particular problems involved. This Cfesa- 
rean creed was now amended most significantly by the inseftion 
of the expressions, "begotten, not made," "of one essence 
(homoouiion, ofioovciov) with the Father" ; and by the specific 
rejection of Arian formulae siich as "there was when He was 
not" and "He was made of things that were not." The later 
technically unlike words essence, substance (over (a), and hypos- 
tasis (vTrckfTCMTw) were here used as equivalent e3q)ressions. 
Loof s has shown conclusively^ that the influences which secured 
these changes were Western, doubtless above all that of Hosius 
of Cordova, supported by the Emperor. In particular, the test 
word, homootision, had long been orthodox in its Latin equiva- 
lent, and had been in philosophic usage in the second century, 
though rejected by a synod in Antioch in the proceedings 
against Paul of Samosata (ante, p. 73). Indeed, it was used 
very sparingly by Athanasius himself in his earlier defoise of 
the Nicene faith. It b easy to understand Constantine's atti* 

* SocrateB, Church History, I*. 

« Realencyklopddie far prot, Theol. u.^'^irdie, 2". « 


tude. Essentially a politician, he naturally thought a formula 
that would find no opposition in the Western half of the em- 
pire, and would receive the support of a portion of the East, 
more acceptable than one which, while having only a part of 
the East in its favor, would be rejected by the whole West. 
To Constantine's influence the adoption of the Nicene defini- 
tion was due. That he ever understood its shades of meaning 
is more than doubtful; but he wanted a united expression of the 
faith of the church on the question in dispute, and believed that 
he had found it. Under his supervision, all but two of the 
bishops present signed it. These, and Arius, Constantine sent 
into banishment. The imperial politics had apparently se- 
cured the unity of the church, and had given it what it had 
never before possessed, a statement which might be assumed 
to be a universally recognized creed. 

Besides this action in thus formulating the creed, the Coun- 
cil of Nicsea issued a number of important canons regulating 
church discipline, paved the way for the return of those in Egypt 
who had joined the Melitian schism over the treatment of the 
9 lapsed, made easy the readmission of Novatians, and ordered 
cfs^ a uniform date in the observation of Easter. 
^ It is not strange, in view of the manner in which the Nicene 
/ creed was adopted, that soon after the council ended great 
i opposition to its test word, Jurmoouaion, was manifested in the 
^ East. To the defeated Arians it was, of course, obnoxious. 
^ They were few. To the large middle party of disciples of Origen 
^ it was scarcely less satisfactory, for to diem it seemed Sabel- 
Man. Though Eusebius of Nicomedia and his Arian sympa- 
Y thizer, Theognis of Nicsea, had signed, their evident hostility 
^ wa3-«ich^at Constantine sent both bishops into exile. By 
Ky 328, howevSr, they were home again, possibly through the 
favor of the Emperor's sister, Constantia. Eusebius soon ac- 
quired a greater influence over Constantine than any other 
ecclesiastic of the East, and used it to favor the cause of Anus. 
With such elements of opposition to the Nicene result, the real 
battle was not in the council but in the more than half a cen- 
tury which foUawjsd its conclusion. 

Meanwhile tha great defender of the Nicene faith [had come 
fully on the scene. JAthanasius/was bom in Alexandria about 
295. In the early stages of tlilie Arian controversy he was a 
deacon, and served as private secretary to Bishop Alexander. 


As such he accompanied his bishop to Nicsea, and on Alexander's 
death, in 328, was chosen in turn to the Alexandrian bishopric 
— a post which he was to hold, in spite of attack and five ban- 
ishments, till his own demise in 373. Not a great speculative 
theologian, Athanasius was a great character. In an age 
when court favor counted for much, he stood like a rock for his 
convictions, andlbhat the Nicene theology ultimately conquered 
was primarily due to him. If or the Nicene West possessed no 
able theologian. To him, the question at issue was one of 
salvation, and that he made men feel it to be so was a main 
source of his power. The Greek conception of salvation had 
been, since the beginnings of the tradition of Asia Minor, the 
transformation of sinful mortality into divine and blessed im- 
mortality — ^the impartation of "life** {ante, p. 40). Only by 
real Godhead coming into union with full manhood in Christ 
could the transformation of the human into the divine be ac- 
complished in Him, or be mediated by Him to His disciples. 
As Athanasius said A^' He [Christ] was made man that we 
might be made diving." ^ | To his thinking the great error of 
Arianism was that it gave no basis for a real salvation. Well 
was it for the Nicene party that .so moderate, yet determined, 
a champion stood for it, since the two other prominent de- 
fenders of the Nicene faith, Bishops Marcellus of Ancyra and 
Eustathius of Antioch, were certainly far from theologically 
impeccable, and were accused, not wholly rightly, of opinions 
decidedly Sabellian. 

Eusebius of Nicomedia soon saw in Athanasius the real en- 
emy. Constantine would not desert the Nicene dedsion, but 
the same practical result could be achieved, Eusebius thought, 
by striking its defenders. Political and theological differences 
were deverly used to secure the condemnation of Eustathius in 
330. The Eusebians determined to secure the discomfiture of 
Athanasius and the restoration of Arius. The latter, who had 
returned from banishment even before Eusebius, now presented 
to Constantine a creed carefully indefinite on the question at is- 
sue.^ To Cdnstantine's untheological mind this seemed a satis- 
f actory.jetraction, and an expression of willingness to make his 
peace. He directed Athanasius to restore Arius to his place 
m Alexandria. Athanasius refused. Charges of overbraring 

* Tncamaiionf 54*. 

« Socrates, Church HiUory, !»• ; Ayer, p. 307. 


and disloyal conduct were brought against Athanasius./ Con- 
stantine was finally persuaded that the main obstacle^ in the 
path of peace was Athanasius's stubbornness. / Hie bbhops 
assembled for the dedication of Constantine's just completed 
church in Jerusalem, met in Tvre, and then in Jerusalem, 
under Eusebian influences, andldecided in favor of Arius's 
restoration in 335, and near tiiie'end of the year Constance 
banished Athanasius to GaulA Shortly after the same forces 
procured the depoiution of IvAircellus 'of An(*yra for heresy. 
The leading defenders of the Nicene creed being thus struck 
down, the/Eusebians planned the restoration of Arius (himself 
to diurch fellowship; but on the evening before the formal 
ceremony should take place Arius suddenly died (336). An 
aged man, the excitement may well have beoi fatal. 

Hie Nicene faith seemed thus not officially overthrown, but 
practically undermined, when Constantine died on May 22, 
337. Shortly before his demise he was baptized at the hands 
of Eusebius of Nicomedia. The changes which his life had 
witnessed, and he had largely wrought, in the status of the 
church were enormous ; but they were not by any means wholly 
advantageous, t If persecution had ceased, and numbers were 
rapidly growing under imperial favor, doctrinal discussions 
that earlier would have run their course were now political 
questions of the first magnitude, and the Emperor had assumed 
a power in ecclesiastical affairs which was ominous for the 
future of the church. \ Yet in the existing constitution of the 
Roman Empire such results were probably inevitable, once the 
Empeior himself should become, like Constantine, an adherent 
of the Christian faith. 


\The death of Constantine was succeeded by the division of 
tHe empire among his three sons,\with some intended provi- 
sions for other relatives that were frustrated by a palace in- 
trigue and massacre. Constantine II, the ekiest, received 
Britain, Gaul, and Spain ; Constantius, Asia Minor, Syria, and 
Egypt; whOe the intermediate portion came to the youngest, 
Constans. Constantine II died in 340, so that the empire was 
speedily divided between Constans in the West, and Constan- 
tius m the East. Both Emperors showed themselves, from the 



first, more partisan in religious questions than their father had 
been. I A joint edict of 346 ordered temples closed, and for- 
bade sfterifice on pain of death.^ /The law was, however, but 
slightly enforced. The Dbnatist' controversy in North Africa 
had greatly extended, and that land, in consequence, was the 
scene of much agrarian and social agitation. The Donatists 
were, therefore, attacked in force by Constans, and though 
ncdt wholly crushed, were largely rooted out. 

iThe most important relationship of the sons of Constantine 
to the religious questions of the age was to the continuing 
Nicene controversy.! Under their rule it extended from a 
dispute practically involving only the East, as under Constan- 
tine, to an empire^wide contest. At the beginning of their 
joint reigns the) Emperors permitted the exiled bishops to re- 
turn. Athanasms wi^, therefore, once more in Alexandria be- 
fore the close of 337| Eusebius was, however, still the most 
influential party leader in the East, and his authority was but 
strengthened when he was promoted, in 339, from the bishopric 
of Nicomedia to that of Constantinople, where he died about 
341/ Through the influence of Eusebius Athanasius was forci- 
bly driven from Alexandria in the spring of 339, and an Ariaa 
bishop, Gregory of Cappadocia, put in his place by military 
power. Athanasius fled to Rome, where Marcellus of Ancyra 
soon joined him. 

East and West were now under difiFerent Emperors, and 
Constans held to the Nicene sympathies of his subjects. Not 
merely was the empire divided, but Bishop Julius of Rome 
could now interfere from beyond the ,reach of Constantius. 
He welcomed the fugitives and summoned their opponents to 
ajsynod in Rome, in 340,|though the Eusebians did not appear, 
{liie synod declared Athanasius and Marcellus imjustly deposed.^ 
The Eastern leaders replied not merely with protests against 
the Roman action, but with an attempt to do away with the 
Nicene formula itself, in which they had the support of Con- 
stantius. ' Two synods in Antioch, in 341, adopted creeds, 
far, indeed, from positively Arian in expressiop, but from which 
all that was definitely Nicene was omitted. ' In some respects 
they represented a pre-Nicene orthodoxy. { The death of Eu- 
sebius, now of Constantinople, at this juncture cost the oppo- 
nents of the Nicene decision his able leadership. \ The two 

* Codex TheodonanuSf 16 : 10* ; Ayer, p. 323. 



brother Emperors thought that the bitter quarrel could best 
be adjusted by a new General Council, and accordingly such a 
body gathered in Sardica, the modem Sofia, in the autumn of 
343. General Council it was not to be. The Eastern bishops, 
finding themselves outnumbered by those of the West, and 
seeing Athanasius and Marcellus in company with them, with- 
drew. By the Westerners Athanasius and Marcellus were 
once more approved, though the latter was a considerable bur- 
den to their cause by reason of his dubious orthodoxy. East 
and West seemed on the point of ecclesiastical separation. 

JThe Council of Sardica had completely failed in its object 
oi healing the quarrel, but the Westerners there assembled 
]>assed several canons, under the leadership of Hosius of Cor- 
dova, that are of great importance in the development of the 
judicial authority of the bishop of Rome. I What they did was 
to enact the actual recent course of proceedings regarding 
Athanasius and Marcellus into a general rule. \ It was decided 
that in case a bishop was deposed, as these had been, he might 
appeal to Bishop Julius of Rome, who could cause the case to 
be retried by new judges, and no successor^ould be appointed 
till the decision of Rome was known.^lThey were purely 
Weston rules and seem to have aroused Ettle attention, even 
in Rome, at the time, but were important for the futiu%. 

The two imperial brothers were convinced that the contro- 
versy was assuming too serious aspects. At all events, Con- 
stans favored Athanasius, and the rival bishop, Gregory, having 
died, Constantius permitted Athanasius to return to Alexandria 
in October, 347, where he was most cordially welcomed by the 
overwhelming majority of the population, which had always 
heartily supported him. The situation seemed favorable for 
Athanasius, but poUtical events suddenly made it worse than 
it had ever been. A rival Emperor arose in the West in the 
person of Magnentius, and in 350 Constans was murdered. 
/Three years of struggle brought victory over the usmTjer to 
■Constantius, and left him sole ruler of die empire (353)./ 

Constantius, at last in full control, determined to end the 
controversy. To his thinking Athana^us was the chief enemy. 
The leadership against Athanasius was now in the hands of 
Bishops Ursadus of Singidunum, and Valens of Mursa. j At 
fljynods held in Aries in 353, and in Milan in 355, Constantius 

^See Ayer, pp. 364-300* 


forced the Western bishops to abandon Athaoaaus, and to 
resume communion with his Eastern oppoiient»j[ For resis- 
tance to these demands Liberius, bishop of Rome, Huary of Poi- 
tiersi the most learned bishop of Gaul, and the aged Hosius of 
Cordova were sent into banishment. I AthanasiusI driven from 
Alexandria by military force in Febnmry, 356, b^;an his third 
[exile J finding refuge for the next six years largely among the 
'Egyptian monks. At a synod held in Sirmiiun, the Emperor's 
residence, in 357, ousia (substance) in any of its combinations 
was forbidden as unscriptural.^ This, so far as the influence of 
the Quod went, was an abolition of the Nicene formula. Hosius 
signed it, though he absolutely refused to condemn Athanasius. 
Tl^e declaration of Sirmium was strengthened by an agreement 
secured by Constantius at the little 'Diracian town of Nice, in 
359, in which it was affirmed "we call the Son like the Father, 
as the holy scriptures call Him and teach." ^ The Emperc^ 
and his episcopal favorites, notably Valens of Mursa, now se- 
cured its acceptance by synods purporting to represent East 
and West, held in Rimini, Seleucia, and Constantinople. /The 
Old-Nicene formula was set aside, and the whole church had, 
theoretically, accepted the new resulty The proper term, the 
only one dlowed in court drdes, wis ^'the Son is like the 
Fatiier'' — homoios — Whence those who supported its use were 
known as the Homoion (''like") party. Apparently colorless, 
the history of its adoption made it a rejection of the Nicene 
faith, and opened the door to Arian assertions. The Arians had 
triumphed for the time being, and that success was largely aided 
by the fact that its Homoion formula appealed to many who 
were heartily tired of the long controversy. 

Really, however, the Arian victory had prepared the way 
for the ruin of Arianism, though that result was not inmiedi- 
ately apparent. The opposition to the Nicene formula had 
always been composed of two elements: a small Arian sec- 
tion, and a much larger conservative body, which stood mainly 
on positions reached by Origen, to which Arianism was ol>- 
noxious, but which looked upon hoTnoausios, the Nicene phrase, 
as an unwarranted expression already condemned in Antioch, 
and of Sabellian ill-repute. Both elements had worked together 
to resist the Nicene formula, but their agreement went no 
further. Extreme Arians were raising their heads in Alexandria 

^ HDaiy of Poitiers, De SynodU, 11 ; Ayer, p. 317. * Ayer, p. 310. 


and elsewhere. The conservatives were even more hostile to 
them than to the Nicene party. They would not say homoouaios 
— of one substance — but they were willing to say homoiousioa 
— ^not in t he sen se . of Jike sufesta^ce, as the natural translation 
would be. butofeguality of attributes. They were also begin- 
ning to draw a distinction between ousia — substance, e^ 
seQSfi — and hypoaiasis — now using the latter in the sense 
of " subigstfiOfis/' instead of making them equivalent, as in the 
Nicene symbol. Thi^^^^a^ded-ihem .to preserve the Origen- 
b^^aclung of "three l^postajasQ/* while insisting on the 
commun ity o f attributgL The newly formed middle party 
came'^t into evidence with a synod at Ancyra, in 358, and 
its chief early leaders were Bishops Basil of Ancyra, and 
George of Laodicea. They have usually been called tihie Semi- 
Arians, but the term is a misnomer. \ They rejected Arianism 
energetically. They really stood n^ to Athanasius. \ He 
recognized this approach, and Hil ary^ of Poitiers furthered 
union by urging that the conservatives meant Iby homoiousios 
what the Nicene party understood by homoousios} | The ulti- 
mate Nicene victory was to come about through the fusion of 
the Nicene and the "Semi-Arian^' parties. I In that union the 
tradition of Asia Minor, and the interpretations of Qrigen were 
to combine with those of Alexandria. It was a slow process, 
however, and in its development the earlier Nicene views were 
to be considerably modified into the New-Nicene theology. 


Constantius died in 361 as he was preparing to resist his 
cousin, Julian, whom the soldiers in Paris had declared Emperor. 
His death left the Roman world to Julian. Spared on account 
of his youth at the massacre of his father and other relatives 
on the death of Constantine, he looked ux>on Constantius as 
his father's murderer. Brought up in pml of his life, and 
forced to strict outward churchly observance, he came to hate 
everything which Constantius represented, and was fiUed with 
admiration for the literature, life, and philosophy of the older 
Hellenism. He was not an "apostate," in the sense of a turn- 
coat. Though necessarily concealed from the public, his heath- 
enism had long been real, when his campaign against Constan- 

^DeSynodis, 88; Ayer, p. 319. 



tiu3 enabled him publicly to declare it. It was heathenism of 
a mystical, philosophical character. On his accession he at- 
tempted a heathen revival. Christianity was everywhere 
discouraged, and Christians removed from office. Bishops 
banished under Constantius were recalled, that the quarrels of 
. Christians might aid in the heathen reaction. Athanasius 
i was thus once more in Alexandria in 362, but before the year 
(was out was exiled for the fourth time by Julian, who was 
i angered by his success in making converts from heathenism. 
Julian's reign was soon over. In 363 he lost his life in a cam- 
"Jt paign against the Persians. In him Rome had its last heathen 
Emperor. vr 

llie reign of Julian showed the real weakness of the Arian- 
izing elements which Constantius had supported. Athanasians 
and Semi-Arians drew together. Furthermore, the Nioene 
debate was broadening out to include a discussion of the re- 
lations of the Holy Spirit to the Grodhead. Since the time of 
Tertullian, in the West, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit had been 
regarded as three ''persons,^' of one substance (ante, p. 69). 
The East had reached no such unanimity. Even Qrigen had 
been uncertain whether the Spirit was '' created or uncreated,'' 
or ''a son of God or not." ^ There had not been much discus- 
sion of the theme. Now that it had come forward, the homoauria 
of the Holy Spirit with the Father, seemed to Athanadus and 
his friends a corollary from tiie.homoousia of the Son. At a 
"^ synod held in Alexandria in 362,^ by the just retiuned Athana- 
'sius, terms of union were drawn ilp for rival parties in Antioch. 
It would be sufficient ''to anathematize the Arian heresy and 
confess the faith confessed by the holy Fathers at Nicsea, and 
to anathematize also those who say ^t the Holy Ghost is a 
creature and separate from the essence of Christ." * The em- 
ployment of the terms "three hypostases" and ''one hypos- 
tasis" the synod regarded as indifferent, provided "three" 
was not used in the sense of "alien in essence," and "one" in 
that of Sabellian unity. \ The door was thus opened by Atha- 
' I nasius himself not only for the full definition of the doctrine <^ 
• the Trinity, but for the New-Nicene orthodoxy, with ite God- 
head in one essence (substance) and three hypostases. \ 
The death of Julian was succeeded by the brief reign of 

* De Prindpiis, Preface. 

* Tomw adJLntU>cheno8, 3 ; Ayer, p. 360. 


Jovian. The empire had once more a Christian ruler, and 
happily, one who interfered little in ecclesiastical politics. 
AtLanasius promptly returned from his fourth exile. Jovian's 
rule ended in 364, and he was succeeded by Valentinian I (364- 
375), who, finding the imperial defense too great a task, took 
charge of the West, giving to his brother, Valens (364r-378) 
the sovereignty of the East. Valentian interfered little with 
churchly affairs. Valens came under the influence of the 
Arian clergy of Constantinople, and both Homoousian and 
Homoiousian sympathizers shared his dislike — a situation which 
helped to bring these parties nearer together. He condenmed 
Athanafflus to a fifth and final exile, in 365; but it was brief, 
and the aged bishop did not have to go far from the city. 
Valens was, however, no such vigorous supporter of Arianism 
as Constantius had been. Athanasius died in Alexandria, in 
373, full of years and honors. 

At the death of Athanasius the leadership in the struggle 
was passing into the hands of new men, of the New-Nicene 
party. Chief of these were the three great Cappadocians, 
Ba sjl of jl!fBs^ rea in Cappadoda, Gregory of jj fazian zus. and 
Grego rv of Ny ssa. Bom of a prominent Cappadocian family 
about 330, Basil received the best training that Constanti- 
nople and Athens could yield, in student association with his 
life-long friend Gregory of Nazianzus. About 357 he yielded 
to the ascetic Christian tendencies of the age, and gave up any 
idea of a career of worldly advancement, living practically as a 
monk. He visited Egypt, then the home of the rising monas- 
tic movement, and beoune tke great propagator of monasti- 
cism in Asia Minor. He was, however, made for affairs and not 
for the cloister. Deeply versed in Origen, and in sympathy 
with the Homoiousian party, he belonged to the section which 
gradually came into feUow^ip with Athanasius, and like Ath- 
anasius he supported the full consubstantiality of the Holy 
Spirit. To the wing of the Homoiousian party which refused 
to regard the Spirit as fully God — ^the so-called Macedonians — 
he (^ered strenuous opposition. It was a far-reaching vic- 
tory for his cause when Basil became bishop of the Cappa- 
docian CaBsarea, in 370. The post gave him ecclesiastical au- 
thority over a large section of eastern Asia Minor, which he 
used to the full tUl his early death, in 379, to advance the 
New-Nicene cause. He sou^^t also to promote a good under- 



standing between the opponents of Arianism in the East and 
the leaders of the WeSt. 

Gregory of Nyssa was Basil's younger brother. An orator 
of ability, and a writer of even greater skill and theological 
clearness than Basil, he had not Basil's organizing and ad- 
ministrative gifts. His title was derived from the little Cappa- 
docian town — ^Nyssa — of which he became bishop in 371 or 
372. He lived till after 394, and ranks among the four great 
Fathers of the Oriental Church. 

Gregory of Nazianzus (329?-3897) had his title from the 
town of his birth, where his father was bishop. Warmly be- 
friended with ftasil from student days, like Basil he felt strongly 
the monastic attraction. His ability as a preacher was greater 
than that of either of his associates, but was exercised in most 
varying stations. As a priest he aided his father, from about 
361. By Basil he was made bishop of the village of Sasima. 
About 378 he went to Constantinople to oppose the Arianism 
which was the faith of the vast majority of its inhabitants. 
The accession of the zealously Nicene Emperor, Theodosius, 
in 379, gave him the needed support, and he preached with 
such success that he gained the repute of having turned the 
city to the Nicene faith. By Theodosiu^ he was made bishop 
of Constantinople in 381. But the frictions of party strife 
and the inclination to ascetic retirement which had several 
times before driven him from the world, caused him speedily 
to relinquish this most exalted ecclesiastical post --As a writer 
he ranked with Gregory of Nyssa. Like him he is reckoned 
one of the Eastern Fathers, and the later Orient has given him 
the title, the "Theologian." 

To the three Cappadocians, more than to any others, the 
intellectual victory of the New-Nicene faith was due. To the 
men of that age tihieir work seemed the triumph of the Nicene 
formula. What modifications they really made have been weU 
expressed by a recent German writer :^ 

Athanasius (and Marcellus) taught the one Grod, leading a 
threefold personal life, who reveals Himself as such. The Cappa- 
docians think of three divine hypostases, which, as they manifest 
the same activity, are recognized as possessing one nature and the 
same dignity. The mystery for the former lay in the trinity; for 

1 Seeberg, Text-Book of (he History of DoctHnes, Eng. tr., 1 : 232. 


the latter, in the unity. . . . The Cappadocians interpreted the 
doctrine of Athanasius in accordance with the conceptions and 
underlying principles of the Logos-Christology of Origen. They 
paid, however, for their achievement a high price, the magnitude 
of which they did not realize — ^the idea of the personal (rod. 
Three personalities and an abstract, impersonal essence, are the 

The original Nicene success and the temporary triumph of 
Arianism had been made possible by imperial interference. 
The same force was to give victory to the New-Nicene ortho- 
doxy. The death of Valens in the great Roman defeat by the 
West Goths, near Adrianople, in 378, left his nephew, Gratian, 
the sole surviving ruler. Gratian preferred the care of the 
West, and wisely appointed as Emperor for the East an able 
general and administrator, Theodosius, who became ultimately, 
for a brief period, the last sole ruler of the Roman Empire. 
Bom in Spain, he grew up in full sympathy with the theology 
of the West, and shared to the utmost its devotion to the Nicene 
faith. In 380, in conjimction with Gratian, he issued an edict 
that all should ^'hold the faith which the holy Apostle Peter 
gave to the Romans," which he defined more particularly as 
that taught by the ensting bishops, Damasus of Rome, and 
Peter of Alexandria.^ This edict constitutes a reckoning point 
in imperial politics and ecclesiastical development. Hence- 
forth there was to be but one religion in the empire, and that 
the Christian. Moreover, only that form of Christianity was 
to exist which taught one divine essence i n three hypostases, 
or, as the West would express it in supposedly similar terms, 
one substance in three persons. 

In 381 Theodosius held an Eastern synod in Constantinople,\ 
which ultimately gained repute as the Second General Council, 
and obtained an undeserved credit as the supposed author of ! 
the creed which passed into general use as " Nicene.'' Of its 1 
work little is known. It undoubtedly rejected, however, that 
wing of the Homoiousian party — the Macedonian — ^which re- 
fused to accept the consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit, and 
approved the original Nicene creed. Personal differences con- 
tin ued between Eitet and West, and between Eastern parties ; 
bo.t the forcible way in which tJie Emperor now drove out the 

1 Codex Theodonanua, W ; Ayer, p. 367. 



Arians decided the fate of Arianism in the empire, in spite of a 

brief toleration of Arianism in northern Italy by Gratian's suc- 

\^ cessor, Valentinian II, influenced by his mother, against which 

«. Ambrose of Milan had to strive. Here, too, the authority of 

^; Theodosius was potent after her death, about 388. Arianism 

v^ in the empire was a lost cause, though it was to continue for 

^Nw several centuries among the Grermanic invaders, thanks to the 

missionary work of Ulfila (see Section V). 

Yet even when the synod of 381 met, the Nicene creed, as 
adopted in 325, failed to satisfy the requirements of theologic 
"; development in the victorious party. It said nothing regaid- 
"^ ing the consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit, for instance. A 
creed more fully meetmg the state of discussion was desirable, 
and actually such a creed came into use, and by 451 was re- 
garded as adopted by the Greneral Council of 381. It ulti- 
V mately took the place of the genuine Nicene creed, and is that 
>J known as the " Nicene*' to this day. Its exact origm is un- 
certain, but it is closely related to the baptismal creed of 
Jerusalem, as reconstructible from the teaching of Cyril, 
' afterward bishop of that city, about 348 ; and also to that of 
Epiphanius of SisJamis, about 374.^ 

On reviewing this long controversy, it may be said that it 
was a misfortune that a less disputed phrase was not adopted 
at NicGea, and doubly a misfortune that imperial interference 
played so large a part in the ensuing discussions. In the strug- 
gle the impenal church came into existence, and a policy of im- 
perial interference was fully developed. Departure from official 
orthodoxy had become a crime. 

Theodosius's attitude was no less strenuous toward remain- 
ing heathenism than in regard to heretical Christian parties. 
In 392 he forbade heathen worship under penalties similar to 
those for lese-majesty and sacrilege.* It was the old weapon 
of heathenism against Christianity now used by Christian 
hands agamst heathenism. Constantme's toleration had fully 
disappeared. Nevertheless, heathen worship persisted, and 
only slowly died out. 

> Ayer, Source Booh, pp. 364-866. 

> Codex Theodosianue, IS^- " ; Ayer, p. 347. 




Throughout the history of the empire the defense of the 
frontiers of the Rhine and the Danube ^against the Teutonic 
peoples beyond had been an important military problem. 
Under Marcus Aurelius a desperate, but ultimately successful 
war had been waged by the Romans on the upper Danube 
(167-180). Considerable shifting of tribes and formations of 
confederacies took place behind tiie screen of the Roman fron- 
tier; but by the beginning of the third century the group 
known as the Alemans had formed across the upper Rhine, 
and half a century later, that of the Franks on the lower right 
side of that river. Between these two developments, about 
230-240, the Groths completed their settiement in what is now 
southern Russia. In 250 and 251 the Roman hold in the Bal- 
kans was seriously threatened by a Grothic invasion, in which 
tiie persecuting Emperor, Decius, lost his life. The Gotiis 
efiPected a settiement in the region north of the lower Danube. 
They invaded the empire, and the peril was not stayed till the 
victories of Claudius (269), from which he derived his titie, 
"' Gothicus.'' The stronger Emperors, Aurelian, Diocletian, 
and Constantine, held tiie frontiers of the Rhine and the 
Danube effectively; but the danger of invasion was always 
present. By the fourth century the Groths north of the Danube, 
who were most in contact with Roman civilization of any of 
the Germanic tribes, were known as the Visigoths, while their 
kinsmen in southern Russia were called Ostrogoths. The exact 
meaning of these names is uncertain, though they are generally 
r^arded as signifying West and East Grotiis. 

There was, indeed, much interchange between Romans and 
Germans, especially from the time of Aurelian onward. Ger- 
mans served, in increasing numbers, in the Roman armies. 
Roman traders penetrated far beyond the borders of the em- 
pire. Germans settied in the border provinces and adopted 
Roman ways. Prisoners d war, taken probably in the raid 
of ^2641 from Cappadocia, had introduced the\germs of Chris- '"' 
tianity among the Visigotha before the close of the third cen- 
tury, and even a rudimentary church organization in certain 
places. \The Visigoths, as a nation, had not been converted.! 
To that work Plfila was to contribute. \ Bom about 310, of 
parentage sprung, in part at least, from the captives just men- 


tioned, he was of Christian origin, and became a "reader'' in 
the services of the little Christian Grothic drde. In 341 he ac- 
companied a Gothic embassy, and was ordained bishop by the 
Arian Eusebius of Nioomedia, then bishop of Constantinople, 
whether in the latter dty, or in Antioch where the synod (ante, 
p. 120) was then sitting, is uncertain. His theology, which 
seems to have been very ample, was thenceforth anti-Nioene, 
and after the formation of the new Homoion party he was to be 
reckoned one of its adherents. For the next seven years he 
labored in his native land, till persecution compelled him and 
his fellow Christians to seek refuge on Roman soQ, living and 
laboring for many years near the modem Plevna, in Bulgaria. 
His great work was the translation of the Scriptures, or at least 
of the New Testament, into the Grothic tongue. In 383 he died 
on a visit to Constantmople. Unfortunately, the complete 
oblivion into which these Arian labors fell, owing to their un- 
orthodox character in the view of the following age, allows no 
knowledge of Ulfila's associates, nor a judgment as to how far 
the credit of turning the Visigoths to Christianity belonged to 
him, or to the Gothic chieftain Fritigem, about 370. 

But, however brought about, the Visigoths, in spite of heathen 
persecution, rapidly accepted Arian Christianity. Not only 
they, but their neighbors the Ostrogoths, the Vandals in part, 
and remoter Germanic tribes, such as the Burgundians and 
Lombards, had embraced the Arian faith before invading the 
empire. Indeed, so widely had Christianity penetrated that 
it seems not improbable that, had the invasions been a couple of 
generations delayed, all might have entered the empire as 
Christians. As it was, those tribes only which were the far- 
thest removed from the influences going out from the ^^goths 
— those of northwestern Germany, of whom the chief were 
the Franks and the Saxons — ^remained overwhelmingly heathen 
at the time of the invasions. Such rapid extension of Chris- 
tianity shows that the hold of native paganism must have been 
slight, and that many, whose names have utteriy perished, 
shared in the work of conversion. It was of the utmost sig- 
nificance that when the walls of the empire were broken the 
Germans came, for the most part, not as aiemies of Chris- 
tianity. Had the Western empire fallen, as well it might, a 
century before, the story of Christianity might have been vastly 


Pressed by an invasion of Huns from western Central Asia/ 
the Visigoths sought shelter across the frontier of the lower 
Danube in 376. Angered by ill-treatment from Roman offi- 
cialsj they crossed the Balkans and annihilated the Roman army 
near Adrianople^ in 378, in a battle in which the Emperor Valens 
lost his life. The strong hand of Theodosius (379-395) re- 
strained their further attacks; but on his death the empire, 
divided between his son of eighteen, Arcadius, in the East, and 
his eleven-year-old son, Honorius, in the West, was no longer 
able to resist the attack. Under Alaric, the Visigoths plun- 
dered almost to the walls of Constantinople, and thence moved 
into Greece, penetrating as far as Sparta. By 401 the Visi- 
goths were, pressing into northern Italy, but were resisted for 
the next few years by Theodosius's able Vandal general, Stilicho, 
whom he had left as guardian for the young Honorius. Stili- 
cho's murder, in 408, opened the road to Rome, and Alaric 
promptly marched thither. It was not till 410, however, that 
the Visigothic chieftain actually captiued the city. The pop- 
pular impression of this event was profound. The old mistress 
of the world had fallen before the barbarians. Alaric, desirous 
of establishing a kingdom for himself and of securing Roman 
Africa, the granary of Italy, marched at once for southern 
Italy, and there died before the close of 410. Under Ataulf 
the Visigothic host marched northward, invading southern 
Gaul in 412. Here the Goths settled by 419, developing 
ultimately a kingdom that included half of modern Frwce, 
to which they added most of Spain by conquest during the 
course of the century. The Roman inhabitants were not driven 
out, but they were subjected to their Germanic conquerors, 
who appropriated much of the land, and placed its older occu- 
pants in a distinctly inferior position. Conmierce was ham- 
pered, the life of the cities largely broken down, and civilization 

While these events were in progress, the tribes across the 
Rhine had seen their opportunity. The Arian Vandals and 
heathen Alans and Suevi invaded Gaul at the close of 406, 
ultimately pushing their way into Spain, where they arrived 
before the Visigotiis. The Franks had pressed into northern 
Gaul and the Burgundians conquered the region around Strass- 
bui^, and thence gradually the territory of eastern Gaul which 
still bears their name. Britain, involved in this collapse of 


Roman authority, was increasingly invaded by the Saxons, 
Angles, and Jutes, who had been attacking its coasts since the 
middle of the fourth century. There Roman dvilization had 
a weaker grasp than on the continent, and as Germanic con- 
quest slowly advanced, it drove the Celtic dement largely 
westward, and made much of Britwi a heathen land. The 
Vandals from Spain, having entered Africa by 425, invaded it 
in full force in 429, under Gaiseric. They soon established there 
the most powerful of the early Germanic kingdoms, whose pi- 
ratical ships speedily dominated the western Mediterranean. 
A Vandal raid sacked Rome in 455. A fearful invasion of 
Gaul in 451, by the Huns under Attila, was checked in battle 
near Troyes by the combined forces of the Romans and Visi* 
goths. The next year Attila carried his devastations into Italy, 
and was barely prevented from taking Rome by causes whicb 
are now obscure, but among which tiie efforts of its bishop, 
Leo I, were believed to have been determinative. 

Though the rule of the Emperors was nominally maintained 
in the West, and even the Germanic conquerors, who established 
kingdoms in Gaid, Spain, and Africa were professedly their de- 
pendents, the Emperors became the tools of the chiefs of the 
army. On the death of Honorius, in 423, the empire passed 
to Valentinian HI. His long reign, till 455, was marked by the 
quarrels of Boniface, count of Africa, and Aetius, the count 
of Italy, which permitted the Vandal conquest of North Africa 
Aetius won, indeed, about the last victory of the empire when, 
with the Visigoths, he defeated Attila in 451. Between 455 and 
476 no less than nine Emperors were set up and deposed in the 
West. The real nder of Italy was the head of the army. Prom 
456 to 472 this post was held by Ricimer, of Suevic and Visi- 
gothic descent. After his death the conunand was taken by 
a certain Orestes, who conferred the imperial title on his soil 
Romidus, nicknamed Augustulus. The army in Italy was 
recruited chiefly from smaller Germanic tribes, among them tb- 
Rugii and Heruli. It now demanded a third of the land 
Orestes refused, and the army rose in mutiny in 476 under tbf 
Germanic general Odovakar, whom it made King. This datfc 
has usually been taken as that of the close of the Roman Em- 
pire. In reality it was without special significance. Romidu' 
Augustulus was deposed. There was no further Emperor ii^ 
the West till Charlemagne. But Odovakar and his contem* 




poraries had no thought that the Roman Empire was at an 
end. He ruled in Italy as the Visigoths ruled in southern 
France and Spain, a nominal subject of the Roman Emperor, 
who sat on the. throne ^In Constantinople* 

Odovakar's sovereignty in Italy was ended in 493 in the 
struggle against new Gerinanic invaders of Italy, the Ostro- 
goths, led by Theodoric. Under that successful conqueror a 
really remarkable amalgamation of Roman and Germanic in- 
stitutions was attempted. His capital was Ravenna, whence 
he ruled till his death in 526./ The Ostrogothic kingdom in 
Italy was brought to an end by the long wars under the Em- 
peror Justinian, which were fought, from 535 to 555, by Beli- 
sarius and Narses^who restored a ravaged Italy to the empire. 
Contemporaneously (534) the imperial authority was re-estab- 
lished in North Africa and the Vandal kingdom brought to, 
an end. Italy was not long at {>eace. Between 568 and 572 
a new Germanic invasion, that of the Lombards, founded a 
kingdom that was to last for two centuries. Masters of north- 
em Italy, to which region they gave their name, the Lombards 
did not, however, win Rome and the southern part of the 
I>eninsula, nor did they gain Ravenna, the seat of the imperial 
exarch, till the eighth century. Rome remained, therefore, 
connected with the empire which had its seat in Constanti- 
nople, but so distant and so dose to the Lombard frontier 
that e£Fective control from Constantinople was impossible — 
a condition extremely favorable for the growth of the political 
power of its bishop. 

Contemporaneously with the earlier of the events just de- 
scribed, changes of die utmost significance were in process in 
Gaul. The Franks, of whom mention has been made, had 
long been pressing into the northern part of the ancient prov- 
inces. Divided into several tribes, the King of the Salic 
Franks, from about 481, was Clovis. A chieftain of great 
energy, he soon extended his sovereignty as far as the Loire. 
He and his people were still heathen, though he treated the 
church with respect. In 493 he married Clotilda, a Burgun- 
dian, but, unlike most of her feUow countrymen, a " Catholic," 
not an Arian. After a great victory over the Alemans, in 496, , 
ht declared for Christianity, and was baptized with three 
thousand of his followers in Rheims, on Christmas of that 
year. His was the first Germanic tribe, therefore, to be con- 


verted to the orthodox faith. Ybigoths, Ostrogoths, Vandals, 
Burgundians, and Lombards were Arians. This agreement m 
belief won for Clovis not only the good-will of the old Roman 
population and the support of the bishops whom he, in turn, 
favored but, added to his own abilities, enabled him before his 
death, in 511, to take from the Vbigoths most of their posses- 
sions north of the Pyrenees and to become so exten^ve a ruler 
that he may well be called the founder of France, his territories 
stretdiing even beyond the Rhine. That the Franks were 
'^Catholic" was ultimately, though not inunediately, to bring 
connections between them and the papacy of most far-reaching 

The conversion of the Franks had also much influence on 
the other Greimanic invaders, though the example of the native 
population among whom they were settled worked even more 
powerfully. The Burgundians abandoned Arianism in 517, 
and in 532 became part of the Frankish kingdom. The im- 
perial conquests of Justinian ended the Arian kingdoms of the 
Vandals and Ostrogoths. The rivalry of the cr^s was te^ 
minated in Spain by the renunciation of Arianism by the Visi- 
gothic King, Recared, in 587, and confirmed at the Third Coun- 
cil of Toledo, in 589. About 590 the gradual conversion of 
the Lombards to Catholicism began — a process not completed 
till about 660. Thus all Arianism ultimately disappeared. 


To the distinction already attaching to the Roman Church 
and its bishop the period of the invasions brought new emi- 
nence. Believed to be founded by Peter, situated in the an- 
cient capital, the guardian of apostolical tradition, the largest 
and most goierous church of the West, it had stood orthodox 
in the Arian controversy, and in the ruin of the Gennanic in- 
vasions it seemed the great surviving institution of the ancient 
world which they were unable to overthrow. While most of 
the bishops of Rome in this period were men of moderate 
abilities, several were the strongest leaders of the West, and to 
them great advancement in the authority of the Roman bishop 
— the development of a real papacjr — ^was due. Such a leader 
of force was Inno cent I (402-412 ). [ He claimed for the Roman 
Church not only ciStody of apostolical tradition and the founda- 



tign of all Western Christianity, but ascribed the decisions of 
Sardica (ante, p. 121) to the Council of Nicsea, and based on 
them a univenal jurisdiction of the Roman bishop.^ | Leo 4 
(44(M61) greatly served Rome, in the judgment of the tune, 
during the invasions of the Huns and Vandals, and largely 
influoiced the result of the Council of Chalcedon (p. 151). He 
^emphasized the primacy of Peter among the Apostles, both in 
'faith and government, and taught that what Peter possessed had 
passed to Peter's successors.^ \ These claims Leo largely made 
good./ He ended the attempt to create an independent Gallic 
see in' Aries ; he exercised authority in Spain and North Africa. 
In 445 he procured an edict from the Western Emperor, Valen- 
tinian IH, ordering all to obey *the Roman bishop, as having 
the " primacy of Saint Peter." * / On the other hand, the Coun- 
cil of Chalcedon, in 451, by iis twenty-eighth canon placed 
Constantinople on a practical equality with Rome.^ Against 
this action Leo at once protested; but it foreshadowed the ulti- 
mate separation, far more political thaueligious, between the 
churches of East and West. W/ 

y In the struggle with Monophy^tism (p. 154), the bishops of 
Kome resisted the efforts of the Emperor Zeno (474-491) and 
the Patriarch Acacius of Constantinople to modify the results 
of Chalcedon by the so-called HenoHcon,^ with the result that 
Pope Felix III (483-492) excommunicated Acacius, and a 
schism began between East and West which ended in 519 in 
a papal triumph. \ During this controversy Pope Gelasius (492- 
496) wrote a letter to Zeno's successor, the^ Eastern Emperor 
Anastasius, in which he declared ''there are • • . two by whom 
principally this world is ruled: the sacred authority of the 
pontiffs and the royal power. Of these the importance of the 
priests is so much the greater, as even for Kings of men they 
wiU have to give an account in the divine judgment.'^ * / In 
502 Bishop ^inodius of Pavia urged that the Pope can be 
judged by (jrod alone J I The later claims of the mediaeval 
papacy were, therefore, sketched by the beginning of the 
sizth century. Circiunstances prevented their development 
in full practice in the period inmiediately following. { The rise 
of the Ostrogothic Idngdom in Italy and the reconquest of 

1 Letters, 2, 25; Mirfot, QueOen twr GesckiehU dea Papittuma, 54, 55. 
* Sermona, 3«' • ; Ayer, p. 477. • Mirbt, p. 65. * Ayer, p. 521. 

» Ayer, p. 527. • Ayer, p. 631. » Mirbt, p. 70. 


.36 Tm Rise o^ monasticism 

Italy by the Eastern empire, diminished the independence of 
the papacy. \ Outside of Italy the growth of a new Catholic 
power, the IVanks, and the gradual conversion of Arian Ger- 
manic rulers, brought about a harmony between the new sover- 
eigns and their bishops that gave to the latter extensive m- 
dependence of Roman claims, though accompanied by great 
dependence on the Germanic sovereigns. The full realization 
of the papal ideal, thus early established, was to be a task of 
centuries, and was to encoimter many vicissitudes. 


It has been pointed out that ascetic ideals and a double 
/ standard of Christian morality had long been growing in the 
church before the time of Constantine (ante, pp. 103, 104). Their 
progress was aided by the ascetic tendencies inherent in the 
better philosophies of the ancient world. Origen, for instance, 
who was permeated wj||i the Hellenistic spirit, was distin j^hed 
for his asceticism. LRig before the close of the third century 
the holy virgins were a conspicuous element in the church, 
and men and women, without leaving their homes, were prac- 
tising asceticism. Nor is asceticism, or even monasticism, 
peculiar to Christianity. Its rep^sentatives are to be found in 
the religions of India and among Jews, Greeks, and Egyptians. 

Certain causes led to its increased development contem- 
porary with the recognition of Christianity by the state. The 
low condition of the church, emphasized by the influx of vast 
numbers in the peace from 260 to 303, and after the conver- 
sion of Constantine, led to enlarge^ valuation of the ascetic 
life by serious-minded Christians. /The cessation of martyr- 
: doms left asceticism the highest Cnristian achievement attain- 
able. /The world was filled with sights that offended Christian 
morality, from which it seemed well to flee. The mind of an- 
tiquity regarded the practice of contemplation as more estima- 
ble than the active virtues. Above all, the extreme formalism 
and rigidity of public worship, as developed by the close of 
the third century, led to a desire for a freer and more individual 
approach to God. Monasticism was soon to become formal 
enough ; but in its initiation it was a breach with tha limita- 
tions of conventional Christian worship and service, f It was 
^'^ origin a }ay«ifta's„ movement, j "^ 



\ Anthony, the founder of Christian monasticismjwas born in 
Kama, in central Egypt^ about 250, of native (Coptic) stock. 
Impressed with Chr^'s words to the rich young man/ he gave 
up his possessions, and about 270|took up the ascetic lif^in 
his native village. Some fifteen yWtrs later he went into the 
solitude,! becoming a hermit. ) Here he is said to have lived 
till 356 (r). He believed himself tormented by demons in every 
imaginable form. He fasted. He practised the strictest self- 
denial. He prayed constantly. He would draw near to God 
by overcoming the flesh. Anthony soon had many imitators, 
some of whom lived absolutely alone, others in groups, of which 
the largest were in the deserts of Nitria and Scetis. Whether 
singly or in groups, these monks were as far as possible hermit- 
like. Vrheir worslup and their self-denials were largely of 
their oVm devising.\ 

iThe first great improver of n\onasticism was Pachomius. \ 
Bom about 292, he became a soldier, and was converted from ) 
heathenism to Christianity when perhaps twenty years old. 
At first he adopted the hermit life, but dissatL^ed with its 
irregularities, I he established the first Christian monastery in 
Tal^nnisi, in southern Egypt, about 315-320. | Here all the 
inmates were knit into a single body, having assigned work, 
r^ular hours of worship, similar dress, and cells close to one 
another — in a word, a life in common under an abbot. This 
was a* vastly more healthful type of knonasticism. It was also 
one possible for women, for whom Pachomius established a 
convent. At his death, in 346, there were ten of his monasteries 
in Egypt. 

The two typ^, the hermit form of Anthony and the cenobite 
organization of Pachomius, continued side by side in Egypt, 
and both were carried from that land to the rest of the em- 
pire. \ Syria saw a considerable development early in the fourth • 
century. \There the hermit form took extravagant expres- 
sion, of which an example, a little later, is that of the famous 
f Simeon Stylites, ^who dwelt for thirty years, till his dea|th in 
450, on the top of a pillar, situated east of Antioch. [Mo- 
nasticism in Asia Minor, on the other hand, continued the 
tradition of Pachomius, [chiefly owing to the efforts of its great 
popularizer, Basil (ante, p. 125), who labored for its spread 
from about 360 to his death in 379. The Rule which bears 


his name, whether his actual composition or not, was even 
more that of a life in common than that of Pachomius. It 
emphasized work, prayer, and Bible reading. It taught that 
monks should aid those outside by the care of orphaps, and 
similar good deeds. It discoiu*aged extreme asceticism. iBasil's 
Rule is, in a general way, a basis of the moni^ticism of the Greek 
and Russian Chim^es to the present day,| though with much 
less weight laid than by him on work and helpfulness to 

Vrhe introduction of monasticism into the West was the 
work of Athanasius.\ By the closing years of the fourth cen- 
tury the exhortations^ and examples of Jerome, Ambrose, and 
Augustine brought it much favor, though it also encountered 
no little opposition, y In Frfmce its great advocate was Martin 
of Tours, who established a monastery near Poitierd about 
362.\ Soon monasticism, both in its cenoblte and in its hermit 
forms^, was to be found throughout the West. The earliest 
monks, as in the East, were la3nnen ; but Eusebius, bishop of 
VerceUi in Italy, who died in 371, began the practice of requir- 
ing the clergy of his cathedral to live the monastic life. Through 
the influence of this example it gradually became the custom 
for monks to receive priestly ordination. Such clerical cpnsecrar 
tion became, also, the rule ultimately in the East. 
\ Western monasticism was long in a chaotic condition.\ Indi- 
vidual monasteries had their separate rules. Asceticism, always 
characteristic in high degree of Eastern monasticism, found 
many disciples. On the other hand, many monasteries were 
lax.\ The great reformer of Western Qionasticism was Benedict 
of Nursia.\ Bom about 480, he studied for a brief time in Rome, 
but, oppressed by the evils of the city, he became a hermit 
(c. 500) in a cave of the mountains at Subiaco, east of Rome. 
The fame of his sanctity gathered disciples about him, and led 
to the offer of the headship of a neighboring monastery, which 
he accepted only to leave when he found its ill-regulat^ monks 
unwilling to submit to his discipline. \ At some uncertain date, 
traditionally 529, he now founded the mother monastery of 
the Benedictine order, on the hill of Monte Cassino,\ about 
half-way between Rome and Naples. To it he gave hi^ Rule, 
and in it he died; the last certain event of his life, his meet- 
ing with the Ostrogothic King, Totila, having taken place in 


Benedict's famous Rule^ exhibited his profound knowledge ^ 
of human nature and his Roman genius for organization. ^ 
His conception of a monastery was that of a permanent, self- 
contained and self-supporting garrison of Christ's soldiers. 
At its head was an abbot, who must be implicitly obeyed, 
yet who was bound in grave matters of common concern 
to consult all the brethren, and in minor questions the elder 
monks. None was to become a monk witiiout having tried 
the life of the monastery for a year ; but, once admitted, his | 
vows were irrevocable. To Benedict's thinking, worship was I 
undoubtedly the prime duty of a monk. Its daily common 
observance occupied at least four houis, divided into seven 
periods. Almost as much emphasis was laid on work. ^^ Idle- 
ness is the enemy of the soul." *Hence Benedict prescribed 
manual labor in the fields and reading./ Some fixed time must 
be spent in readmg each day, vaiying'with the seasons of the 
year; and in Lent books must be assigned, with provision to 
insure their being read. These injunctions made every Bene- 
dictine monastery, at all true to the founder's ideal, a centre 
of industry, and the possessor of a library. The value of these 
provisions in the training of the Germanic nations and the 
preservation of literature was inestimable. Yet they were but 
secondary to Benedict's main purpose, that of worship. In 
general, Benedict's Rule was characterized by great modera- 
tion and good sense in its requirements as to food, labor, and 
disciplilie. It was a strict life, but one not at all impossible 
for the average earnest man* 

In the Benedictine, .systetti early Western monastidsm is to 
be seen at its be^. His Rule spread slowly. It was carried 
by Roman missionaries to England and Germany. It did not ^ 
penetrate France till the seventh century ; but by the time of 
Charlemagne it had become well-nigh universal. With the 
Rule of Benedict the adjustment between monasticism and the 
church was complete. The services of its monks as mission- 
aries and pioneers were of inestimable value. In troubled 
times the monastery afforded the only refuge for peace-loving 
souls. The highest proof of its adaption to the later Roman 
Empire and the Middle Ages was that not only the best men 
supported the institution; they were to be found in it. Its 

* Extracts in Ayer, pp. 631-641 ; practically in full in Henderson, Sded 
Hitiorieal DocumenU of the Middle Ages, pp. 274-314. 


great faults, from a modem point of view^ wer^ its emphasis 
on a distinction between higher and lower morality, and its 
discredit of the life of the Christian family ; but both were in- 
heritances from Christian conditions and ideals in the Roman 
Empire antecedent to the development of monastidsm. Mo- 
nastidsm was their product, not their cause. 


The contrast between East and West is in many ways illus- 
trated by the unlike qualities and experiences of Chrysostom 
and Ambrose. Ambrose was bom in Trier, now in western 
Germany, where his father held the high civil office of prae- 
torian prefect of Gaul, about 337-340. Educated in Rome for 
a civil career, his talents, integrity, and likableness led to his 
appointment, about 374, as govemor of a considerable part of 
northern Italy, with his residence in Milan, then practically 
an imperial capital. The death of the Arian bishop, Auxen- 
tins, in 374, left the Milanese see vacant. The two factions 
were soon in bitter stmggle as to the theological complexion 
of his successor. The young govemor entered the church to 
quiet the throng, when the cry was raised, "Ambrose Bishop 1" 
and he found himself, though imbaptized, elected bishop of 
Milan. To Ambrose, this was a call of God. He gave tip his 
wealth to the poor and the church. He studied theology. He 
became a most acceptable preacher. Above all, he possessed 
to the full the Roman talent for administration, and he soon 
became the first ecclesiastic of the West. Strongly attached 
to the Nicene faith, Ambrose would make no compromise with 
the Arians, and resisted all their attempts to secure places of 
worship in Milan — an effort in which they were aided by the 
Empress Justina, mother of the youthful Valentinian II. In 
the same spirit he opposed successfully the efforts of the hea- 
then party in Rome to obtain from Valentinian II the res- 
toration of the Altar of Victory in the Senate chamber, and 
other privileges for the older worship. His greatest triumph 
was in the case of the Emperor Theodosius. That quick- 
tempered ruler, angered by the murder of the govemor of 
Th^salonica, in 390, caused a pimitive massacre of its inhab- 
itants. Ambrose, with rare moral courage, called on the 
Emperor to manifest his public repentance.^ It throws a 

1 Ayer, pp. 390, 391. 


pleasing light on the character of Theodosius that he obeyed 
the admonition. 

Ambrose was a theological writer of such reputation that 
the Roman Church reckons him as one of its ^'Doctors" — or 
authoritative teachers. His work, however, in this field was 
largely a reproduction of the thoughts of Greek theologians, 
though with a deeper sense 6t sin and grace than they. ''I 
will not glory because I am righteous, but I will glory because 
I am redeemed. I will not glory because I am free from sin, 
but because my sins are forgiven.''^ Ambrose's bent was 
practical. He wrote on Christian ethics, in full sympathy with 
the ascetic movement of the time. He contributed much to 
the development of Christian hynmology in the West. Force- 
ful and sometimes overbearing, he was a man of the highest 
personal character and of indefatigable zeal — a true prince of the 
church. Such men were needed in the shock of the collapsing 
empire if the church was to survive in power. He died in 397. 

Very different was the life of Chrysostom. John, to whom 
the name Chrysostom, ^^golden-moutiied," was given long after 
his death, was bom of noble and well-to-do parents in An- 
tioch about 345-347. Losing his father shortly after his birth, 
he was brought up by his religious-minded mother, Anthusa, 
and early distinguished himself in scholarship and eloquence. 
About 370, he was baptized and probably ordained a ''reader.'' 
He now practised extreme asceticism, and pursued theological 
studies under Diodorus of Tarsus, one of the leaders of the 
later Antiochian school. Not satisfied with his austerities, he 
became a hermit (c. 375), and so remained till ill-health com- 
pelled his retiun to Antioch, where he was ordained a deacon 
(c. 381). In 386 he was advanced to the priesthood. Then 
foUowed the happiest and most useful period of his life. For 
twelve years he was the great preacher of Antioch — ^the ablest 
that the Oriental Church probably ever possessed. His sei^ 
mons were exegetical and eminently practical. The simple, 
grammatical understanding of the Scriptures, always prefened 
in Antioch to the allegorical interpretation beloved in Alexan- 
dria, appealed to him. His themes were eminentiy social — the 
Christian conduct of life. He soon had an enormous following. 

Such was Chrysostom's fame that, on the see of Constanti- 
nople falling vacant, he was practically forced by Eutropius, 

* De Jacob et vita heata, 1 : 6*^. 


the favorite of the Emperor Arcadius, to accept the bishopric 
of the capital in 398. Here he soon won a popular hearing 
like that of Antioch. From the first, however, his way in Con- 
stantinople was beset with foes. The unscrupulous patriarch 
of Alexandria, Theophilus, desired to bring Constantinople 
into practical subjection. Himself the opponent of Origen's 
teaching, he charged Chrysostom with too great partiality for 
that master. Chrysostom's strict discipline, for which there 
was ample justification, was disliked by the loose-living clergy 
of Constantinople. Worst of all, he won the hostility of the 
vigorous Empress Eudoxia, by reasons of denunciations of femi- 
nine extravagance in dress, which she thought aimed at herself. 
Chrysostom was certaioly as taqtiess as he was fearless in de> 
nouncing offenses in high places. All the forces against him 
gathered together. A pretext for attack soon arose. In his 
opposition to Origen, Theophilus had disciplined certain monks 
of Egypt. Four of these, known as the ''tall brothers/' fled 
to Chrysostom, by whom they were well received. Theophilus 
and Chrysostom's other enemies now secured a synod, at an 
imperial estate near Constantinople known as "The Oak,'' 
which, under the leadership of Theophilus, condemned and 
deposed Chrysostom in 403. The Empress was as supersti- 
tious as she was enraged, and an accident in the palace — Plater 
tradition pictured it probably mistakenly as an earthquake — led 
to Chrysostom's recall shortiy after he had left the capital. 
Peace was of brief duration. A silver statue of the Empress, 
erected hard by his cathedral, led to denunciations by Chrys- 
ostom of the ceremonies of its dedication. The Empress saw 
in him more than ever a personal enemy. This time, in spite 
of warm popular support, he was banished to the miserable 
town of Cucusus, on the edge of Armenia. Pope Innocent I 
protested, but in vain. Yet from this exile Chiysostom oon- 
timied so to influence his friends by letter that his opponents 
determined to place him in deeper obscurity. In 407 he was 
^ ordered to Pityus, but he never reached there, dying on the 

The fate of this most deserving, if not most judicious, preach^* 
of righteousness illustrates the seamy side of imperial inter- 
ference in ecclesiastical affairs, and the rising jealousies of the 
great sees of the East, from whose mutual hostility the church 
and the empire were greatly to suffer. 




The Nicene result determined that Christ is fully God, and 
''was made man/' On the common basis of Nicene orthodoxy, 
however, the further question arose as to the relations of the 
divine and human in Him. Regarding that problem the Nicene 
creed was sUent, and even the great Nicene champion, Athana- 
sius, had not paid much attention to it. Only in the West 
had a general formula come into extensive use. As the Nicene 
decision had been largely anticipated by Tertullian, with the 
result that the West had been united when the East was divided, 
so thanks to the clear definitions of that great African writer, 
the West had a conception of full deity and full manhood ex- 
isting in Christ, without confusion, and without diminution of 
the qualities appropriate to each. In the new struggle, as in 
that of Nic«a, the Western view was to triumph. Yet neither 
in its conception of "one substance in three persons," nor in 
that of "one person, Jesus, God, and man" {arde^ p. 69), had the 
West any wrought-out philosophical theory. What Tertullian 
had given it were clear-cut judicial definitions of traditional 
beliefs rather than philosophically thought-out theology. It 
was the advantage of the West once more, as in the Nicene 
struggle, that it was now united, even if its thought was not 
so profound as that of the divided East, when the East fairly 
began to wrestle with the intellectual problems involved. 

It was possible to approach the Christological problem from 
two angles. The unity of Christ might be so emphasized as 
to involve a practical absorption of His humanity into divinity ; 
or the integrity of each element, the divine and the human, 
maintained in such fashion as to give color to the interpreta- 
tion that in Him were two separate beings. Both tendencies 
were manifested in the controversy — ^the first being that toward 
which the theological leaders of Alexandria leaned, and the 
latter being derivable from the teachings of the school of 

The first and one of the ablest of those who undertook a 
feally profound discussion of the relation of the hmnan and the 
divine in Christ was ApoUinaris, bishop of Laodicea in 3yria 
(?-c. 390). A hearty supporter of the Nicene decision, he en- 
joyed for a considerable time at least the friendship of Atha- 
nasius. His intellectual gifts were such as to command respect 


n from his opponents. Moreover, as with Athana^us, Apol- 
jis's interest was primarily religious. To both, Chiut's 
'k for mea was the transformation of our unful mortality 
> divine and blessed immortality. This salvation, Apolli- 
is thought with Athanasius, could be achieved only if Christ 
1 completely and perfectly divine. But how, ApoUinaris 
ued, could Christ be made up of a perfect man united with 
iplete God f Was that not to assert two Sons, one eternal, 
I the other by adoption?* Nor could ApoUinaris expUun 
ist's sinlessness or the harmony of His wills, if Christ was 
iplete man joined with full God.^ To him, the best solu- 
I seemed akm to that of Arius, whom he otherwise opposed, 
t in Jesus the place of the soul was taken by the Logos, 
I only the body was human. That view having been con- 
ined, though without mention of his name, by a synod in 
zandria in 362,* ApoUinaris apparently altered his theory 
is to hold that Jesua had the body and animal soul of a man, 

that the reasoning spirit in Him was the Logos.* At the 
le time he held that the divine so madd the human one 
li it — so absorbed it — that "God has m His own flesh auf- 
d our sorrows." ' These opinions seemed to do special 
lor to Christ's divinity, and were destined to be widely and 
manently influential in Oriental Christian thinking, but they 
ly denied Christ's true humanity, and as such speedily 
ed down condemnation on their author. Rome decided 
inst him m 377 and 3S2, Anrioch in 378, and finaUy the 
»Ued Second Ecumenical Council — that of Conetantinople 
ipoUmaris was strongly oppposed by Gr^ory of Nazianzus 

by the school of Antioch. The founder of the latter, in 
later stage, was Diodonis (?-394), long a presbyter of An- 
h, and from 378 to his death bishop of Taxsus. Its roots, 
sed, ran back into the earUer teaching of Paul of Samosata 
te, p. 72) and Lucian {aide, p. 106) ; but the extreme pos- 
ts which they represented, and their leadership, were re- 
«d, and the school stood on the basis of the Nicene ortho- 
y. It was marked by a degree of literalism in its exegesis 
scripture quite in contrast to the excessive use of all^ery 

Vyer, p. 496. * Ibid. 

hthuiABiua, Tomu* ad Antioekenoa, 7. 

kyet,p.*». >/Ud., p. 496. * Canon,!. 


by the Alexandrians. Its philosophy showed the influence of 
Aristotle as theirs that of Plato. Its thought of Christ was 
more influenced by the tradition of Asia Minor^ of the ''second 
Adam/' and by the ancient distinction between the Jesus of 
history and the Christ of experience than was Alexandria. 
Antioch, therefore^ laid more weight of teaching on the earthly* 
life and hiunan nature of Jesus than was the tendency in Alex- 
andria. In this attempt to give true value to Christ's human- 
ity, Diodorus approached the view that in Christ were two per- 
sons in moral rather than essential union. Since the Logos is 
eternal and like can only bear like, that which was bom of Mary 
was the human only. The incarnation was the indwelling of 
the Logos in a perfect man, as of God in a temple. These views 
are reminiscent of the adoptionist Christology, which had 
found one of its latest avowed defenders in Paul of Samosata 
in Antioch a century earlier. They were out of touch with the 
Greek conception of salvation — the making divine of the human. 

Among the disciples of Diodorus were Chrysostom {mte, p. 
141), Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Nestorius. Theodore, a 
native of Antioch, who held the bishopric for which he is 
named for thirty-six years, till his death in 428, was the ablest 
exegete and theologian of the Antiochian school. Though he 
maintained that God and man in Christ constituted one per- 
son — jmwopow, 7rp6awTov — ^he had diflSculty in making that con- 
tention real, and held theories practically identical with those 
of Diodorus.^ 

Nestorius, a presbyter and monk of Antioch, held in high 
r^ute there as a preacher, was made patriarch of Constanti- 
nople in 428. Recent discoveries, especially of his own auto- 
biographical work. The Treatise of Heraelidea of Damaseua, 
have immensely broadened knowledge of his real theological 
position, as well as of the facts of his later life. His dogmatic 
standpoint was essentially that of the school of Antiod^; yet 
he would not admit that there were in Christ two persons — 
the doctrine with which he was charged. '' With the one name 

Christ we designate at the same time two natures The 

essential characteristics in the nature of the divinity an(f in 
the humanity are from all eternity distinguished." * Perhaps 
his furthest departure from the current Greek conception of 
salvation is to be seen in such an expression as : '* God the Word 

» Ayer. pp. 498-501. _ ^ • /Wd., p. 502. 


is also named Christ because He has always conjunction with 
Christ. And it is impossible for God the Word to do anything 
without the humanHy, for all is planned upon an intimate 
conjunction, not on the deification of the humanity." * Nes- 
torius would emphasize the reality and completeness of the 
human in the Christian's Lord. 

Opposed to Nestorius, and to be his bitterest enemy, was 
Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria (412-444), the nephew and 
successor of the patriarch who had had so unworthy a part in 
the downfall of Chrysostom. In him imscrupulous cunbition 
combined with the jealousy of Constantinople long entertained 
in Alexandria — and it must be admitted, reciprocated — and 
with the hostility of the rival schools of Alexandria and Antioch. 
Yet it is but just to Cyril' to note that there was more in his 
opposition to Nestorius than mere jealousy and rivalry, how- 
ever prominent those unlovely traits may have been. Cyril, 
following the Alexandrian tradition, and in consonance with the 
Greek conception of salvation, saw in Christ the full making 
divine of the human. Though he rejected the view of Apol- 
Unaris and held that Christ's humanity was complete in that 
it possessed body, soul, and spirit, he really stood very near to 
A^j?}inaris. His emphasis on the divine in Christ was such 
that, though he described the union in Him as that of ^two 
natures," the only personality in Christ was that of the Logos. 
The Logos "took flesh," He clothed Himself with himianity. 
«* The human element had no personality apart from the Logos. 
Jesus was not an individual man. Yet while Cyril held to 
an interchange of qualities between the divine and the human, 
each is a complete nature. " From two natures, one " ; and that 
one personality is the divine. For Cyril it was, therefore, 
: God made flesh, who was bom, who died, of whom we partake 
in the Supper, and whose making divine of humanity is the 
proof and means that we, too, shall be made partakers of the 
divine nature.^ If the school of Antioch came near such a 
separation of the divine and the human as to leave Christ 
i^l oidy the Son of God by adoption, that of Cyril allowed Him 
little more than an impersonal humanity absorbed in divinity. 
Ab ancient designation of the Mother of Jesus was "Mother of 
God" — Theotokos, Ocorrf^o?. It had been used by Alexander of 
Alexandria, Athanasius, Apollinaris, and Gregory of Nazianzus. 

> Ayer, p. 502. « See Ayer, pp. 505-^07. 



To Cyril it was, of course, a natural expression. Everywhere 
in the East it may be said to have been in good usage, save 
where the school of Antioch had influence, and even Theodore 
of Mopsuestia of thi^t school was willing to employ the expres- 
sion, if carefully guarded.^ Nestorius found it current coin in 
Constantinople. To his thinking it did not sufficiently dis- 
tinguish the human from the divine in Christ. He therefore 
preached against it, at the beginning of his bishopric, declaring 
the proper form to be "Mother of Christ" — "for that which 
is bom of flesh is flesh.'' ^ Yet even he expressed himself a 
little later as willing to say Theotokos, in the guarded way in 
which Theodore would employ it. "It can be endured in con- 
sideration of the fact that the temple, which is inseparably 
united with God the Word, comes ^of her.''* In preaching 
against this expression Nestorius had touched popular piety 
and the rising religious reverence for the Virgin on the quick. 
Cyril saw his opportunity to humiliate the rival see of Con- 
stantinople and the school of Antioch at one blow, while ad- 
vancing his own Christology. Cyril promptly wrote to the 
Egyptian monks defending the disputed phrase, and there 
soon followed an exchange of critical letters between Cyril and 
Nestorius. It speedily came to an open attack on the ^ <itri- 
arch of Constantinople. 

Cyril now brought every influence at his command to his 
lud in one of the most repulsive contests in church history. 
He appealed to the Emperor and Empress, Theodosius II and 
Eudocia, and to the Emperor's sister, Pulcheria, representing 
that Nestorius'i doctrines destroyed all basis of salvation. 
He presented his case to Pope Celestine I (422-432). Nes- 
torius, in his turn, also wrote to the Pope. Celestine promptiy 
found in favor of Cyril, and ordered, through a Roman synod 
in 430, that Nestorius recant or be excommunicated. The 
action of the Pope is hard to understand. The letter of Nes- 
torius agreed more nearly in its definition of the question at 
issue witii the Western view than did the theory of Cyril. Nes- 
torius declared his fidth in "both natures which by the highest 
and unmixed union are adored in the one person of the Only 
B^otten." * Politics were probably the determining factor. 
Rome and Alexandria had long worked together against the 

1 Aya, p. 500. > Ibid., p. 601. • Md. 

^ In Loofs, Nestoriana, p. 171. 


antinople. Nestorius was less respectful 
)pe than Cyril. Moreover, without heing 
had ^ven some degree of favor to the 
Pope opposed (see p. 187). Nestorius's 
>rized Theotokca was also displeasing to 

low widely involved in the dispute, the 
osius n of the East, and Valentiaian III 

general council to meet in Ephesus in 
illowers were early on hand, as was Nes- 
is of Nestorius were slow in arriving, 
bishop of Ephesus promptly organized 
la were present and they could secure, 
med and deposed in a single day's ses- 
ter Nestorius's friends, led by John, the 

arrived. They organized and, in turn, 
ed Cyril and Menmon.* Cyril's council, 
ioined by tlie papal delegates, and added 
Qsed, at the same time condemning Pelo- 
, doubtless to please the West. The 
II was at a loss as to what course to 
tired to a monastery, Theodo^us im- 
lenmon as trouble-makers, but potidcs 
md they were soon allowed to return to 
victinj was Nestorius, and worse was to 

adria were now in hostility more than 
imperial pressure, were made willing to 
. would sacrifice Nestorius, and Cyril 
t Antioch in creedal formula. Accord- 
Antioch sent to Cyril a creed composed, 
iodoret of Cyrus, then the leading theo- 
•f Antioch. This creed was more Anti- 
ian, though it could be interpreted in 
e therefore acknowledge our Lord Jesus 
God and complete man. ... A union 
ts been made, therefore we confess one 
y Virgin is Tkeotokos, because Grod the 
and became man, and from her concep- 
Qself the temple received from her." * 
• Ibid., S». • Ibid., Bp. 610, SIL 


Cyril now signed this creed, though without retracting any of 
his former utterances. By so doing he made irrevocable the 
overthrow of Nestorius. Yet Nestorius could have signed it 
even more willingly than he. This agreement enabled Cyril 
to secure general recognition in the East for his council of 431, 
in Ephesus — in the West the participation of papal representa- 
tives had always accredited it as the Third General Council. 

Nestorius himself was banished to upper Egypt. There he 
lived a miserable existence, and there he wrote, certainly as 
late as the autimm of 450, his remarkable Treatise cf Heraclides 
of Damascus. Whether he survived the Council of Chalcedon 
is uncertain. There is some reason to think that he did. At 
all events he rejoiced in the steps which led to it, and felt 
himself in qonpathy with the views which were then pro- 
claimed orthodox. 

Not all of Nestorius's sympathizers shared in his desertion. 
Ibas, the leading theologian of the Syrian school of Edessa, 
supported his teaching. Persecuted in the empire, Nestorian- 
ism found much following even in Syria, and protection in 
Persia. There it developed a wide missionary activity. In 
the seventh century it entered China, and about the same time 
southern India. Nestorian churches stiU exist in the region 
where Turkey and Persia divide the territory between Lake 
Urumia and the upper Tigris, and also in India. 

The agreement of 433 between Antioch and Alexandria was, 
in reality, but a truce. The division of the two parties but in- 
creased. Cyril undoubtedly represented the majority of the 
Eastern Church, with his emphasis on the divine in the person 
of Christ, at the expense of reducing the hiunan to an im- 
personal humanity. Though he vigorously rejected ApoUi- 
narianism, his tendency was that of Apollinaris. It had the 
sympathy of the great party of monks; and many, especially 
in Egypt, went further than Cyril, and viewed Christ's human- 
ity as practically absorbed in His divinity, so that He pos- 
sessed one nature only, and that divine. Cyril died in 444, 
and was succeeded as patriarch of Alexandria by Dioscurus, 
a man of far less intellectual acumen and religious motive, but 
even more ambitious, if possible, to advance the authority of 
the Alexandrian see. Two years later, 446, a new' patriarch, 
Flavian, took the bishop's throne in Constantinople. Though 
little is known of his early history, it seems probable that his 


ire with the school of Antioch. From the first, 
se promised to be stormy. He had the opposi- 
)f Dioscunis, but of the imperi&l favorite minis- 
us, who had supplanted Pulcheria in the counsels 
II. Chrysaphius was a supporter of the Alez- 

' quarrel soon arose. Dioscunis planned an at- 
luuning representatives of the Antiochian school 
leretics. hi sympathy with this effort, and as a 
uimastic party, on the help of which Dioacunis 
the 8{(ed abbot or "archimandrite," Eutyches 
iple, a man of little theological ability, a partisan 
fii[, and influential not only by reason of his 
t by the friendship of Chrysaphius. Eu^ches 
ed with heresy by Bishop Eusebiua of Doryleeum. 
ip the case with reluctance, evidently Imowing 
of mischief ; but at a local synod in Constanti- 
448, Eutyches was examined and condemned. 
I tliat he affirmed : "I confess that our Lord was 
9 before the union [i. e., the Incarnation], but 
1 one nature." ' 

low one of the ablest of its Popes in the person 
161) (see avte, p. 135), and to Leo both Eutyches 
)eedi]y presented the case.* To Flavian, whom 
porttti, Leo wrote his famous letter of June, 449, 
the Tome* in which the great Pope set forth 
h the West had entertained since the time of 
t in Christ were two full and complete natures, 
lit detracting from the properties of either nature 
, came together in one person." What may be 
criticism of Leo's letter is that, while represent- 
i truly the Western tradition, it did not touch 
1 depths to which the subtler Greek mind had 
:ulations. Probably it was well that it did not. 
Dioscunis was moving actively in Eutyches's 
le exten^on of his own claims. ' At hie instance 
:»Ued a general counol to meet in Ephesiu is 
At Epheeua Dioscums was suprane. Eutyches 
ted, Flavian and Eusebius of DoryUeum con- 

, S14. *Ldtmi^Leo, 20-38. 

neta, Ayer, p. S15. 


demned. Leo's Tome was denied a reading. It was a stormy 
meeting, but probably not more so than that of Ephesus, in 
431, or Chaloedon, in 451. Flavian died shortly after, and 
rumor had it in consequence of physical violence at the council. 
The report seems unfounded. Dioscurus had achieved a great 
victory, but at the fatal cost of a rupture of the ancient alliance 
between Alexandria and Rome. Leo promptly denounced the 
coundl as a ^' synod of robbers''; but the Emperor, Theodosius 
II, gave it his hearty support and a sympathizer with Di« 
oscurus became patrisurch of Constantinople. 

Leo had no success with Theodosius II, but much with the 
Emperor's sister, Pulcheria; and the situation was profoundly 
alt^^ when the accidental death of Theodosius in July, 450, 
put Pulcheria and her husband, Mardan, on the throne. The 
new sovereigns entered at once into relations with Leo. The 
Pope wished a new council in Italy, where his influence would 
have been potent, but this did not satisfy imperial politics. 
The new General Council was called to meet in Nicsea, in the 
autunm of 451. Imperial convenience led to the change of 
place to Chalcedon, opposite Constantinople, and there some 
six hundred bishops, all but the papal delegates and two others 
from the Orient, assembled in what has ever since been known 
as the Fourth Ecumenical Council (that of Ephesus, in 449» 
being rejected). 

The council proceeded rapidly with its work. Dioscurus 
was deposed and sent into exile by imperial authority, where he 
died three years later. After imperial pressure had been ex- 
erted, a conunission was appointed, of which the papal dele- 
gates were members, to draw up a creed. Its production was 
promptly ratified by the council. The result was, indeed, a 
Western triumph. Rome had given the decision to the ques- 
tion at issue, and in so doing had made a compromise between 
the positions of Antioch and Alexandria that was wholly satis- 
factory to neither. The result was a lengthy document, recit- 
ing the so-caUed Nicseno-Constantinopolitan creed {amis, p. 
128), approving Leo's Tome, and condenming previous heresies.^ 
Its essential part — ^the creed of Chalcedon — ^is as follows : 

We, then, following the holy Fathers, all with one consent, 
teach men to confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, 

» Ayer, pp. 517-521. 


the same perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood; truly 
God and truly man, of a reasonable soul and body; consubstantial 
(ofiaownov) with the Father according to the Godhead, and con- 
substantial with us according to the manhood; in all things like 
unto us, without sin; begotten before all ages of the Father accord- 
ing to the Godhead, and in these latter days, for us and for our sal- 
vation, bom of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God (Theotokos)^ 
according to the manhood; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, 
Only-begotten, in two natures, inconfusedly, unchangeably, in- 
divisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no 
means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each 
nature being preserved, and concurring in one person Q>rosop<m) 
and one subsistence (hypostasis), not parted or divided into two 
persons, but one and tiie same Son and Only-begotten, God the 
Word, the Lord Jesus Christ; as the prophets from the beginning 
have declared concerning Him, and the Lord Jesus Christ Himself 
has taught us, and the creed of the holy Fathers has handed down 
to us. 

Such is the creed that has ever since been regarded in the 
Greek, Latin, and most Protestant Churches as the ''ortho- 
dox" solution of the Christological problem. It is easy to 
criticise it. Its adoption was greatly involved in ecclesiastical 
politics. It solved few of the intellectual difficulties regarding 
Christology which had been raised in the £ast. It did not 
even heal the Christological quarrels. But, when all is ad- 
mitted, it must be said that its formulation was fortunate and 
its consequences useful. It established a norm of doctrine in 
a field in which there had been great confusion. ^More kpr 
portant than that, it was true to the fundamental conviction 
of the church that in Christ a complete revelalioir of "God" is 
made in terms of a genuine human life. *^ """ 

If a coincidence of imperial and Roman interests had secured 
a great dogmatic victory for Rome, the imperial authority was 
determined that the victory should not be one of Roman juris- 
diction. By a canon, against which Leo protested, the council 
exalted the claims of Constantinople to a dignity like that of 
Rome (ante, p. 135). Nor was the downfall of Alexandria less 
damaging. Alexandrian rivalry of Constantinople had been 
Rome's advantage in the East. Now successful rivalry was 
at an end, for the consequences of the Chalcedonian decision 
crippled Alexandria permanently. By the council the historic 
distribution of the Orient was completed, Jerusalem being given 


the patriarchal standing which it had long claimed, side by 
side with the three older patriarchates, Constantinople, Alexan- 
dria, and Antioch. 


The creed of Chalcedon was now the ofBdal standard of 
the empire. Its Western origin and spirit made it unaccept- 
able, however, to a large portion of the East. To many Ori- 
entals it seemed "Nestorian." This was especially true in 
those regions which shared most strongly in the Alexandrian 
tendency to emphasize the divine in Christ at the expense of 
the fully human, and these elements of opposition included 
most of the monks, the old native stock of Egypt generally, 
and a large portion of the population of Syria and Armenia. 
Undoubtedly the tendencies which the "orthodox" Cyril and 
his heretical successor, Dioscurus, had represented were con- 
sonant with the Greek conception of salvation, and seemed 
to do special honor to Christ. These rejecters of the creed 
of Chalcedon included many shades of opinion, but as a whole 
they showed little departure from Cyril. Their chief differ- 
ence from Chalcedon and the West was one of emphasis. 
They rejected Eutyches, yet most of them would say " of two 
natures," provided it was understood that the human and di- 
vine were united in the mcamation into one nature, and that 
essentially divine, with human attributes. As with Cyril, this 
humanity was impersonal, and, perhaps, even more than with 
him it was transformed into divinity, so that without ceasing, 
in a certain sense, to be human, it was properly describable as 
one divine nature. Hence the opponents of Chalcedon were 
called Monophysites — ^believers m one nature. 

Immediately after the Council of Chalcedon Palestine and, 
next, Egypt were in practical revolution, which the government 
was able only slowly to master. By 457 the see of Alexandria 
was in possession of a Monophysite, Timothy, called by his 
enemies the Cat ; by 461, Peter the Fuller, of the same faith, 
held that of Antioch. These captures were not to be perma- 
nent, but the native populations of Egypt and Syria were 
throwing oif the dominance of Constantinople and largely 
sympathized with the Monophysite protest. In Antioch Peter 
tibe Fuller caused fresh commotion by adding to the Trisagion, 


so that the ascription ran: ''Holy God, holy Strong, holy Im« 
mortal, who was crucified for us" 

The empire found itself grievously threatened, politically no 
less than religiously, by these disaffections; and much of the 
imperial policy for more than two centuries was devoted to 
their adjustment, with slight permanent success. In the con- 
test between Zeno and Basilicus for the imperial throne, the 
latter made a direct bid for Monophysite support by issuing, 
in 476, an Encyclion, in which he anadiematij^ " the so-called 
Tome of Leo, and all things done at Chalcedon " in modification 
of the Nicene creed.^ For such a reversal the East was not 
yet ready, and this action of Basilicus was one of the causes 
that led to his overthrow by Zeno. Zeno, however, probably 
induced by the patriarch Acadus of Constantinople, made a 
new attempt to heal the schism. In 482 he published his 
famous Henoticon.^ In it the results of the Councils of Nicaea 
and Constantinople were confirmed, Nestorius and Eutyches 
condenmed, and Cyril's "twelve chapters"' approved. It 
.gave a brief Christological statement, the exact relationship of 

/which to that of Chalcedon was not, and was not intended to 
be, dear. Its cluef significance was in the dedaration : "These 
things we write, not as making an mnovation upon tiie faith, 

/ but to satisfy you ; and every one who has hdd or holds any 
other opinion, either at the present or at another time, whether 
at Chalcedon or in any synod whatever, we anathematize.'' 
This left it free to hold the Chalcedonian creed to be errone- 
ous. The consequence was not peace but confusion. While 
many Monophysites accepted it, the Monophyinte extremists 
would have nothing to do with the HenoHcon. On the other 
hand, the Roman see, feeling its honor and its orthodoxy at- 
tacked by this practical rejection of Chalcedon, excommuni- 
cated Acadus and broke o£P relations with the East, the schism 
continuing till 519, when the Emperor Justin renewed the 
authority of Chalcedon, under drcumstances that increased 
the prestige of the papacy,^ but only alienated Egypt and Syria 
the more. 

Justin's successor, the great Justinian (527-565), more fully 
than any other of the Eastern Emperors, succeeded in making 
himself master of the church. His conspicuous military suc- 

» Ayer, pp. 523-626. « Ibid., pp. 627-629. 

*Ihid., pp. 606-607. ^Ariie, p. 136; see Ayer, p. 536. 


cesses restored to the empire for a time control of Italy and 
North Africa. The churdh was now practically a department 
of the state. Heathenism was suppressed and persecuted as 
never before. While Justinian himself was, at first, strongly 
Chalcedonian in his sympathies, his Empress, Theodora, leaned 
to the M onophysite side. He soon gave up the persecution of 
Monophysites with which his reign began. Himself one of the 
ablest theological minds of the age, he sought to develop an 
ecde^astical policy that would so interpret the creed of Chal- 
cedon that, while leaving it technically untouched, would ex- 
dude any possible Antiochian or ''Nestorian^' construction, 
thus bringing its significance fully into accord with the the- 
ology of Cyril of Alexandria. By this means he hoped to pla- 
cate the Monophysites, and also to satisfy the wishes of the 
East generally, whether "orthodox" or Monophysite, without 
ofiFending Rome and the West too deeply by an actual rejection 
of the Chalcedonian decision. Hence the establishment of a 
Cyrillic-Chalcedonian orthodoxy was Justinian's aim. It was 
a difficult task. As far as concerned a satisfaction of the Mo- 
nophysites in general it failed. In its effort to render the Cyril- 
lic interpretation of the creed of Chalcedon the only "ortho-' 
dox " view it succeeded. Any form of Antiochianism was perma- * 
<iently discredited. By this result Justinian undoubtedly 
satisfied the wishes of the overwhelming majority of the 
"orthodox" East. ... . ' 

Justinian was greatly aided in his task by the rise of a fresh 
interpretation of the Chalcedonian creed, in the teaching of a 
monastic theologian, Leontius of Byzantium (c. 485-543). The 
age was witnessing a revival of the Aristotelian philosophy, 
and Leontius applied Aristotelian distinctions to the Chris- 
tological problems. The feeling of much of the East, both 
"orUiodox'' and Monophysite, was that the affirmation of 
two natures in Christ could not be interpreted without involv- 
ing two hyi)ostases — subsistences — and therefore being "Nes- 
torian.'' An explanation without these ^'Nestorian^' conse- 
quences was what Leontius now gave. The natures might be 
"intra-hyi)Ostatic" — ipv7r6(rraro^ — that is, there might be such 
a hypostatic imion that while the peculiarities of one natiire 
remained, it might find its hypostasis in the other. In Christ 
this one hypostasis, which is that of both natures, is that of 
the Logos. Thus Leontius would interpret the creed of Chal- 


cedon in terms wholly consonant with the aim, if not with the 
exact language, of Cyril. The human in Christ is real, but is 
so subordinated that the ultimate reality is the divine. 

Such an interpretation seemed, at the time, a quite possible 
basis of reunion with the more moderate Monophysites, who 
constituted their majority. The large section led by Severus, 
M onophysite patriarch of Antioch (512-518), who, till his death 
in 538, found a refuge in Egypt, held essentially the same posi- 
tion as Leontius. Their chief difference was that they regarded 
the Chalcedonian Council and its creed with greater suspicion. 
With the more radical Monophysites, led by Julian of Halicar- 
nassus {d. after 518), the prospect of union was less auspicious. 
They went so far as to hold that Christ's body was incorrupti- 
ble from the beginning of the incarnation, and incapable of 
suffering save so far as Christ Himself permitted it. Its enemies 
charged the theory of Julian with Docetic significance. 

To meet this situation by establishing an anti-Antiochian, 
Cyrillic interpretation iof the creed of Chalcedon, and winning, 
if possible, tlie moderate Monophysites, was the aim of Jus- 
tinian. He came to favor the so-called ''Theopaschite" (t. «., 
"suffering Grod**) formula of the Scythian monks, '*one of the 
Trinity suffered in the flesh," after a controversy lasting from 
519 to 533. Because of monastic quarrels in Palestine, and 
also becaase the Emperor's theological sympathies, like those 
of his age, were exceedingly intolerant, Justinian condenmed 
the memory and teachings of Origen in 543.^ 

Justinian's great effort to further his theolo^cal policy was 
the occasion of the discussion known as that of the ''Three 
Chapters.'' In 544 Justinian, defining the issue by his own 
imperial authority, condemned the person and writings of Theo- 
dore of Mopsuestia, now more than a cebtury dead, but once 
the revered leader of the school of Antioch {anief p. 145), the 
writings of Theodoret of Cyrus in criticism of Cyril {ante, p. 
148), and a letter of Ibas of Edessa to Maris the Persian {ante, 
\ p. 149). Theodoret and Ibas h^d been approved by the 
Coundl of Chalcedon. The action of the Emperor nominally 
left the creed of Chalcedon untouched, but made it impossible 
of interpretation in any but a Cyrillic sense, condemned the 
school of Antioch, and greatly disparaged the authority of the 
Council of Chalcedon. The edict aroused not a little opposi* 

^ Ayer, pp. 542, 543. 


tion. Pope Vigillus (537-555) disliked it, but the imperial 
leeonquest of Italy had placed the Popes largely in the power 
of the Emperor. Between his knowledge of the feeling of the 
West and his fear of Justinian, Vigilius's attitude was vacil- 
lating and utterly unheroic.^ To carry out his will, Justinian 
now convened the Fifth General Council, which met in Constan- 
tinople in 653. By it the "Three Chapters," t. e., Theodore 
and the writings just described, were condemned, the "Theo- 
paschite'' formula approved, and Origen once more reckoned 
a heretic.^ Pope Vi^us, Ijiough in Constantinople, refused 
to share in these proceedings, but such was the imperial pres- 
sure that within less than a year he acceded to the decision of 
the council. The Cyrillic interpretation of the creed of Chal- 
cedon was now the only "orthodox" understanding. The 
action of the council was resisted for a few years in North 
Africa; and the yielding attitude of the Pope led to a schis- 
matic separation of northern Italy from Rome which lasted 
till the time of Gregory the Great, and in the neighboring 
niyriciun and Istria even longer. One main purpose of the 
condemnation of the "Three Chapters^' — ^the reconciliation of 
the Monophysites — failed. In Egypt and Syria Monophysit- 
ism remained the dominant force, the real reason being that 
these provinces were developing a native national conscious- 
ness antagonistic to the empire, for which theological differences 
were the excuse more than the cause. 

Under Justinian's successors, Justin II (565-578), and Ti- 
berius II (578-582), alternate severe persecution of the Mo- 
nophysites and vain attempts to win them occurred. These 
efforts were now of less significance as the Monophysite groups 
were now practically separated national churches. The native 
Monophysite body of Egypt c^n hardly be given fixed date for 
its origin. From the Council of Chalcedon the land was in- 
creasingly in religious rebellion. That church, the Coptic, is 
still the main Christian body of Egypt, numbering more than 
six himdred and fifty thousand adherents, strongly Monophy- 
site to this day in doctrine, under the rule of a patriarch who 
still takes his title from Alexandria, though his seat has long 
been in Cairo. Its services are still chiefly in the ancient 
Coptic, though Arabic has to some extent replaced it. The 
most conspicuous daughter of the Coptic Church is the Abys- 

* See Ayer, pp. 544-551. * Ayer, pp. 551, 552. 


sinian. When Christianity was introduced into '^ Ethiopia" 
is uncertain. There is some reason to think that its first mis- 
sionary was Frumentius, ordained a bishop by Athanasius, 
about 330. The effective spread of Christianity there seems 
to have been by Egyptian monks, about 480. The Abyssinian 
Church stands to the present day in dependent relations to 
that of Egypt, its head, the Abuna, being appointed by the 
Coptic patriarch of Alexandria. It is Monophysite, and differs 
litde from that of Egypt, save in the backwardness of its cul- 
ture, and the great extent to which fasting is carried. It is 
probably the lowest in civilization of any existing church. 

Wlule Egypt presented the spectacle of a united Monophy- 
site population, Syria was deeply divided. Part of its inhabi- 
tants inclined to Nestorianism (ante, p. 149). Some were 
orthodox, and many Monophysite. The great organizer of 
Syrian Monophysitism, after its persecution in the early part 
of the reign of Justinian, was Jacob, nicknamed Baradseus 
(?-578). Bom near Edessa, he became a monk and enjoyed 
the support of Justinian's Monophysite-disposed Empress, 
Theodora. In 541 or 543 he was ordained bishop of Edessa, 
and for the rest of his life served as a Monophysite missionary, 
ordaining, it is said, eighty thousand clergy. To him Syrian 
Monophysitism owed its great growth, and from him the Syrian 
Monophysite Church, which exists to the present day, derives 
the name given by its opponents, Jacobite. Its head calls 
himself patriarch of Antioch, though his seat has for centuries 
been in the Tigris Valley, where most of his flock are to be found. 
They number about eighty thousand. 

Armenia during the first four centuries of the Roman Em- 
pire was a vassal kingdom, never thoroughly Romanized, 
maintaining its own language and peculiarities under its own 
sovereigns. Christian beginnings are obscure; but the great 
propagator of Christianity in the land was Gregory, called the 
Illuminator, who labored in the closing years of the third cen- 
tury. By him King Tiridates (c. 238-314) was converted and 
baptized — ^Armenia thus becoming the first country to have a 
Christian ruler, since this event antedated the Christian pro- 
fession of Constantine. Armenian Christianity grew vigor- 
ously. Never very closely bound to the Roman world, Ar- 
menia was in part conquered by Persia in 387. In the struggles 
of the next century hatred of Persia seems to have turned 


Armenia in the Monophysite direction, since Persia favored 
Nestorianism (ante, p. 149). By an Armenian council, held in 
Etchmiadzin (Valarshabad), in 491, the Coundl of Chalcedon 
and the Tome of Leo were condemned, and the Armenian or 
Gregorian ChmtJi — so named from its founder — ^has been ever 
snce Monophysite. Armenians at present are wide-spread 
throughout the Turkish empire and the adjacent portions of 
Russia. Armenians are believed to number not less than two 
millions nine hundred thousand, of whom the greater part are 
Gregorians. The Gregorian Church is now far the most im- 
portant and vigorous of these ancient separated churches of 
the East. 

The effect of the Christological controversies was disas- 
trous to church and state. By the close of the sixth century 
the Roman state church of the East had been rent, and sepa- 
rated churches, Nestorian and Monophysite had been torn 
from it. Egypt and Syria were profoundly disaffected toward 
the government and religion of Constantmople — a fact that 
largely accounts for the rapid conquest of those lands by 
Mohammedanism in the seventh century. 



Justinian's brilliant restoration of the Roman power was 
but of brief duration. From 568, the Lombards were press- 
ing into Italy. Without conquering it wholly, they occupied 
the north and a large portion of the centre. The last Roman 
garrisons were driven out of Spain by the Visigoths in 624. 
The Persians gained temporary control of Syria, Palestine, and 
Egypt between 613 and 629, and overran Asia Minor to the 
Bosphorus. On the European side the Avars, and the Slavic 
Croats and Serbs, conquered the Danube lands and most of 
the Balkan provinces, largely annihilating Christianity there, 
penetrating in 623 and 626 to the defenses of Constantinople 
itself. That the empire did not then perish was due to the 
military genius of the Emperor Heraclius (610-642), by whom 
the Persians were brilliantiy defeated, and the lost eastern 
provinces restored. Before his death, however, a new power, 
that of Mohammedanism, had arisen. Its prophet died in 
Medina in 632, but the conquest which he had planned was 


carried out by the Caliphs Omar and Othman. Damascus 
fell in 635, Jerusalem and Antioch in 638^ Alexandria in 641. 
In 651 5 the Persian kingdom was brought to an end. By 711, 
the Mohammedan flood crossed the Strait of Gibraltar into 
Spain, bringing the Visigothic monarchy to a dose, and swept 
forward into France, where its progress was permanently 
checked by the Franks, under Charles Martel, in the great 
battle of 732, between Tom^ and Poitiers. In the East, Con- 
stantinople successfully resisted it, in 672-678, and again in 
717-718. Syria, Egypt, and North Africa were permanentiy 
taken by the Mohammedans. 

Under such circumstances, before the final catastrophe, 
efforts were naturally made to secure unity in the threatened 
portions of the empire. After negotiations lasting several years, 
in which the patriarch Sergius of Constantinople was the 
leader, a union policy was inaugurated by the Emperor Hera- 
clius, on the basb of a declaration that in all that He did Christ 
acted by "one divine-human energy." Cyrus, the "orthodox" 
patriarch of Alexandria, set up a formula of union, of which this 
was the substance, in Egypt, in 633, with much apparent suc- 
cess in conciliating Monophysite opinion.^ Opposition arose, 
led by a Palestinian monk, Sophronius, soon to be patriarch of 
Jerusalem. Sergius was alarmed and now tried to stop any 
discussion of the question. He now wrote, in that sense, to 
Pope Honorius (625-638), who advised against the expression 
"energy" as unscriptural, and said, rather incidentally, that 
Christ had one will. Heraclius now, in 638, issued his Ekthesis, 
composed by Sergius, in which he forbade discussion of the 
question of one or two energies and affirmed that Christ had 
one will. 

It was easier to start a theological controversy than to end 
it. Pope John IV (640-642) condemned the doctrine of one 
will in Christ — or Monothelite heresy as it was called — ^in 
641. Heradius died tha^ year, and was succeeded by Con- 
stans n (642-668), who issued, in 648, a Typos, in which he 
forbade discussion of the question of Christ's will or wills.* 
The holder of the papacy was the ambitious Martm I (649- 
655), who saw in the situation an opportunity not only to 
further an interpretation of the theological problem consonant 
with the views of the West, which had always held that Christ's 

1 Ayer, pp. 661, 662. * Ibid., pp. 662-664. 


natures were each perfect and entire, but also to assert papal 
authority in the Orient. He therefore assembled a great synod 
in Rome in 649, which proclaimed the existence of two wills 
in Christ — ^human and divine — and not only condemned Ser- 
gius and other patriarchs of Constantinople, but the Ekthesia 
and the Typos} This was flat defiance of the Emperor. Con- 
stans had Pope Martin arrested and brought a prisoner to 
Constantinople in 653, where he was treated with great bru- 
tality. Martin had the courage of his convictions. He was 
exiled to the Crimea, where he died. Strained relations be- 
tween Rome and Constantinople followed. Constans II was 
succeeded by Constantine IV (668-685). By that time, the 
Monophysite provinces, the retention of which had been the 
source of the discussion, had been taken by the Mohammedans. 
It was more important to placate Italy than to favor them. 
The Emperor entered into negotiations with Pope Agatho 
(678-681), who issued a long letter of definition as Leo I had 
once set forth his Tome. Under imperial auspices a council, 
the Sixth General Council, was held in Constantinople in 680 
and 681. By it Christ was declared to have ''two natural wills 
or willings . . • not contrary one to the other . . . but His 
human will follows, not as resisting or reluctant, but rather as 
subject to His divine and omnipotent will." It also con- 
denmed Sergius and other of his successors in the patriarchate 
of Constantinople, Cyrus of Alexandria and Pope Honorius.' 
For the third time Rome had triumphed over the divided 
East in theological definition. Nicsea, Chalcedon, and Con- 
stantinople had all been Roman victories. It must be said, 
also, that a human will was necessary for that complete and 
perfect humanity of Christ as well as perfect divinity, for which 
the West had always stood. The doctrine, thus defined, was 
the logical completion of that of Chalcedon. With its defini- 
tion, the Christological controversies were ended in so far as 
doctrinal determination was concerned. 

While the Sixth General Council was thus a Western success, 
it had a sort of appendix which was, in a sense, a Western 
defeat. Like the council of the "Three Chapters'* (553), it 
had formulated no disciplinary canons. A council to do this 
work was summoned by Justinian H (685-695, 704-711), to 
meet in Constantinople in 692, and is called from the domed 

1 Eztracta, Ayer, pp. 664, 665. I Ayer, pp. 665-^72. 


room in which it assembled — ^which was that in which the 
council of 680 and 681 had met — the Second Trullan Council, 
or Concilium Quinirsextum, as completing the Fifth and Sixth 
General Councils. It was entirely Eastern in its composition, 
and is looked upon by the Oriental Church as the completion 
of the council of 680 and 681, though its validity is not accepted 
by that of Rome. Many ancient canons were renewed; but 
several of the new enactments directly contradicted Western 
practice. It enacted, in agreement with Chalcedon, that 
''the see of Constantinople shall enjoy equal privilege with the 
see of Old Rome.^' It permitted marriage to deacons and pres- 
byters, and condemned the Roman prohibition of such mar- 
riages. The Greek Church still maintains this permission. It 
forbade the Roman custom of fasting on Saturdays in Lent. 
It prohibited the favorite Western representation of Christ 
under the symbol of a lamb, ordering instead the depiction of 
a human figure.^ Though not very important in themselves, 
these enactments are significant of the growing estrangement in 
feeling and practice between East and West. 

The apparent collapse of the Eastern empire in the seventh 
century was followed by a very considerable renewal of its 
strength under the able Leo III, the Isaurian (717-740), to 
whose military and administrative talents its new lease of life 
was due. A forceful sovereign, he would rule the church in 
the spirit of Justinian. He desired to make entrance as ea^ 
as possible for Jews, Moslems, and the representatives of the 
stricter Christian sects, such as the remaining Montanists. 
They charged the church with idolatry, by reason of the wide- 
spread veneration of pictures. In 726, Leo forbade their further 
employment in worship. The result was religious revolt. 
The monks and common people resisted, partly from veneration 
of images, partiy in the interest of the freedom of the church 
from imperial dictation. Leo enforced his decree by the army. 
In most of the empire he had his will. Italy was too remote, 
and there Popes and people reidsted him. Under Pope Gr^ory 
III (731-741), a Roman synod of 731 excommunicated the 
opponents of pictures. The Emperor answered by removing 
idl of Sidly and such portions of Italy as he could from the 
Pope's jurisdiction. Leo's able and tyrannous son, Constan- 
tine V (740-775), pursued the same policy even more relent- 

» Ayer, pp. 673-679. 


lessly. A synod assembled by him in Constantinople in 754 
condemned pictures and approved his authority over the 
church. In this struggle the papacy sought the help of the 
Franks and tore itseU permanently from dependence on the 
Eastern Emperors. A diange of imperial policy came, however, 
with the accession of Constantine VI (780-797), under the 
dominance of his mother, Irene, a partisan of pictures. By 
imperial authority, and with the presence of papal delegates, the 
Seventh and, in the estimate of the Greek Church, the last. 
General Council now assembled in Nicsea in 787. By its de- 
cree pictures, the cross, and the Gospels^'' should be given due 
salutation and honorable reverence, not indeed that true wor- 
ship, which pertains alone to the divine nature. • . . For the 
honor which is paid to the image passes on to that which the 
image represents, and he who shows reverence to the image 
shows reverence to the subject represented in it." ^ The 
coundl seems to have been unconscious that much the same 
thing could have been said by heathenism for its images. 

Among the vigorous supporters of image-reverence was John \ 
of Damascus (700?-753?), the most honored of the later theo-- * 
logians of the Eastern portion of the ancient church. Bom in 
the city from which he took his name, the son of a Christian 
high-placed in the civil service of the Mohammedan Caliph, 
he succeeded to his father's position, only to abandon it and 
become a monk of the cloister of St. Sabas near Jerusalem. 
His chief work. The Fountain of Knowledge, is a complete, 
sjTstematic presentation of the theology of the church of the 
East. With little of originality, and much use of extracts from 
earlier writers, he presented the whole in clear and logical form, 
so that he became the great theological instructor of \he Greek 
Church, and, thanks to a Latin translation of the twelfth cen- 
tury, influenced the scholasticism of the West. His philosophi- 
cal basis is an Aristotelianism largely influenced by Neo-Platon- 
ism* In the Christological discussion he followed Leontius 
{ante, p. 155), in an interpretation of the Chalcedonian symbol 
consonant with the views of Cyril. To him the death of Christ 
is a sacrifice offered to God, not a ransom to the devil. The 
Lord's Supper is fully the body and blood of Christ, not by tran- 
substantiation, but by a miraculous transformation wrought by 
the Holy Spirit 

» Ayer, pp. 694-697. 


John of Damascus summed up the theological development of 
the Orient, and beyond the positions which he represented the 
East made practically no progress. Its contribution to the 
intellectual explanation of Christianity was completed. 



The acceptance of Christianity as the religion of the empire 
gave to the Emperors a practical authority over the church. 
By the time of Justinian, the Emperor declared, on his own 
initiative, what was sound doctrine, and to a considerable 
extent regulated churchly administration.^ The Emperors 
largely controlled appointment to high ecclesiastical office, 
especially in the East. This imperial power was limited, how^ 
ever, by the necessity, which even Emperors as powerful as 
Justinian felt, of securing the approval of the church through 
general councils for statements of faith and canons of adminis- 
tration. The imperial support of these edicts and decisions of 
general councils made heresy a crime, and must seriously have 
limited freedom of Christian thought. It was a very narrow 
path both in doctrinal opinion and in administration, that a 
bishop of Constantinople, for instance, had to walk. If con« 
ditions were more favorable for the papacy {ante, pp. 134-136), 
I it was largely a consequence of the general ineffectiveness of 
' imperial control in Italy, though cases were not lacking where 
the Popes felt the heavy hands of the Emperors. 

As in the third century, the bishops continued to be the centres 
of local ecdesiastioal administration, and their power tended 
to increase. By them the other clergy were not merely ordained, 
but the pay of those below them was in their hands. The First 
Council of Nicsea provided that other clergy should not remove 
from a diocese without the bishop's consent.^ In each of the 
provinces the biahop of the capital city was the metropolitan, 
who, according to the synod of Antioch (341), should "have 
precedence in rank . . . that the other bishops do nothing 
extraordinary without him." ' The ancient custom of local 
synods, for the consideration of provincial questions was ex- 
tended, the First Council qt Nicsea requiring them to be held 

1 E. g., Ayer, pp. 542, 565. « Ayer, p. 361. 

» Jbid., p. 363. 


twice a year.* This metropolitan arrangement was fully in- 
troduced into the East by the middle of the fourth century. > 
In the West it was about half a century later in development, 
and was limited in Italy by the dominance of the papacy. 
Nevertheless it won its way in northern Italy, Spain, and Gaul. 
Above the metropolitans stood the bishops of the great capitals 
of the empire, the patriarchs, whose prominence antedate the 
rise of the metropolitan system. These were the bishops, or 
patriarchs, of Rome, Constantinople (by 381), Alexandria, 
Antioch, and, by 451, Jerusalem. 

By Constantine, the clergy were made a privileged class 
and exempted from the public burdens of taxation (319).^ The 
government, anxious not to lose its revenues through the en- 
trance into clerical office of the well-to-do, ordered that only 
those "of small fortune '* should be ordamed (326).' The 
result of this policy was that, though the ordination of slaves 
was everywhere discouraged, and was forbidden in the East 
by the Emperor Zeno in 484, the clergy were prevailingly re- 
cruited from classes of little property or education. The bril- 
liant careers of some men of tdent and means, of whom Ambrose 
is an example, show the possibilities then before those of high 
ability who passed these barriers. The feeling, which had long 
existed, that the higher clergy, at least, should not engage in 
any worldly or gainful occupation, grew, and such works were 
expressly forbidden by the Emperor Valentinian III in 452. 
Such exclusive devotion to the clerical calling demanded an 
enlarged support. The chiutdi now received not merely the 
gifts of the f ^thf ul, as of old ; but the income of a rapidly in- 
creasing body of landed estates presented or bequeathed to it 
by wealthy Christians, the control of which was in the hands 
of the bishops. An arrangement of Pope Simplicius (468-483) 
provided that ecclesiastical income shoidd be divided into quar- 
ters, one each for the bishop, the other clergy, the up-keep of 
the services and edifices, and for the poor. 

The feeling was natural that the clergy should be moral ex- 
amples to their flocks. CeFibacy had long been prized as be- 
longing to the holier Christian life. In this respect the West 
was stricter than the East. Pope Leo I (440-461) held that 
even sub-deacons should refrain from marriage,* though it was 

* Ayer, p. 360. » Ibid,, p. 283. • 

» Ibid,, p. 280. * LeUera, UK 


to be centuries before this nde was universally enforced in the 
Western Church. In the East, the practice which still con- 
tinues was established by the time of Justinian, that only 
celibates could be bishops, while clergy below that rank could 
marry before ordination. This rule, though not without 
advantages, has had the great disadvantage of blocking pro- 
motion in the Eastern Church, and leading to the choice of 
bishops prevailingly from the ranks of the monks. 

While the bishop's power was thus extensive, the growth of 
the church into the rural districts about the cities, and of many 
congregations in the cities themselves, led to the formation ot 
congregations in charge of presbyters, and thus to a certwi 
increase in the importance of the presbyterial office. These 
congr^ations still belonged, in most regions, to the undivided 
city church, ruled by the bishop; but by the sixth century the 
parish i^stem made its appearance in France. There the 
priest (presbyter) in charge received two-thirds of the local 
income, paying the rest to the bishop. 

The incoming of masses from heathenism into the church 
led, at first, to an emphasis on the catechumenate. Reception 
to it, with the sign of the cross and laying on of hands, was 
popularly regard^ as conferring membership in the church, 
and was as far as the great multitude of less earnest Christians 
went in Christiian profession, save in possible danger of death. 
The growth of generations of exclusively Christian ancestry, 
and, in the West, the spread of Augustinian doctrines of bap- 
tismal grace, brought this half-way attitude to an end. The 
catechumenate lost its significance when the whole population 
had become supposedly Christian. 

In one important respect East and West fell asunder in this 
period reganding rites connected with baptism. As already 
described, by the time of Tertullian (ante, p. 96), baptism 
proper was followed by anointing and laying on of hands in 
token of the reception of the Holy Spirit. In Tertullian's age 
both baptism and laying on of hands were acts of the bidiop, 
save in case of necessity, when baptism could be admin- 
istered by any Christian (ante, p. 97). "^th the growth of 
the churdi, presbyters came to baptize regularly in East and 
West. With regard to the further rite the two regions differed. 
The East saw its chief significance in the anoiiitiiif» and al- 
lowed that to be performed, as it does to-day, by the presbyter 


with oil consecrated by the bishop. The West viewed the lay- 
ing on of hands as the all-important matter, and held that that 
could be done by the bishop alone^ as successor to the Apostles. 
The rites therefore became separated in the West. ''Confirma- 
tion" took place often a considerable time after baptism, when 
the presence of the bishop could be secured, though it was long 
before the age of the candidate was fixed in the Western 


Public worship in the fourth and fifth centuries stood wholly 
under the influence of the conception of secret discipline, the 
so-called disciT^ina arcanif derived, it is probable, from con- 
ceptions akin to or borrowed from the mystery religions. Its 
roots run back apparently into the third centiuy. Under these 
impulses the services were divided into two parts. The first 
was open to catechumens and the general public, and included 
Bible reading, singing, the sermon, and prayer. To the second, 
the true Christian mystery, none but the baptized were ad- 
mitted. It had its crown in the Lord's Supper, but the creed 
and the Lord's Prayer were also objects of reserve from those 
uninitiated by baptism. With the disappearance of the cate- 
chumenate in the sixth century, under the impression that the 
population was all now Christian, the secret discipline came 
to an end. 

The public portion of Sunday worship began with Scripture 
reading, interspersed with the singing of psidms. These selec- 
tions presented three passages, the prophets, t. e., Old Testa- 
ment, the epistles, the Gospels, and were so read as to cover 
the Bible in the course of successive Sundays. The desirability 
of reading appropriate selections at special seasons, and of 
some abbreviation led, by the close of the fourth century, to 
the preparation of lectionaries. In the Arian struggle the use 
of hymns other than psalms grew conmion, and was furthered 
in the West with great success by Ambrose of Milan. 

The latter part of the fourth and the first half of the fifth 
centuries was above all others an age of great preachers in the 
ancient church. Among the most eminent were Gregory of 
Nazianzus, Chrysostom, and Cyril of Alexandria in the East, 

> Acts 8"-". 


and Ambrose^ Augustine^ and Leo I in the West. This preach- 
ing was largely expository, though with plain application to 
the problems of daily life. In form it was often highly rhetori- 
cal, and the hearers manifested their approval by applause. 
Yet, while this preaching was probably never excelled, preach- 
ing was by no means general, and in many country districts, 
or even considerable cities, few sermons were to be heard. 
Prayer was ojffered before and after the sermon in liturgical 
form. The benediction was given by the bishop, when present, 
to the various classes for whom prayer was made, and the 
non-baptized then dismissed. 

The private portion of the service — the Lord's Supper — 
followed. Both East and West held that, by divine power, 
the miracle of the presence of Christ was wrought, but differed 
as to when in the service it took place. In the judgment of the 
East it was during the prayer known as the invocation, epUdesis. 
This was undoubtedly the view in the West till late in the 
sixth century. There, however, it was replaced, probably 
under Roman influence, by the conviction that the Eucharistic 
miracle occurred when the words of institution were recited, 
culminating in ''This is JMy body . . . this is the new covenant 
in My blood." To Gregory of Nyssa and Cyril of Alexandria 
the Supper is the repetition of the incarnation, wherein Christ 
takes the elements into union with Himself as once He did 
human flesh. The Lord^s Supper was at once a sacrifice and a 
communion. It was possible to emphasize one aspect or the 
other. The East put that of communion in the for^^imd. 
Consonant with its theory of salvation, the Supper was viewed 
as primarily a great, life-giving mystery, wherein the partaker 
received the transforming body and blood of his Lord, and 
thereby became, in a measure at least, a partaker of the divine 
nature, built up to the immortal and sinless life. This view 
was far from denied in the West. It was held to be true. 
But the Western conception of salvation as coming into right 
relations with God, led the West to emphasize the aspect of 
sacrifice, as inclining God to be gracious to those in whose 
behalf it was offered. The Western mind did not lend itself 
so readily as the Eastern to mysticism. In general, the Oriental 
administration of the Lord's Supper tended to become a mys- 
tery-drama, in which the divine and eternal manifested itself 
in life-giving energy. 


Beside the Sunday worship, daily services of a briefer char- 
acter were now very common, and had widely developed into 
morning and evening worship. 

The older festivals of the Christian year, Easter and Pente- 
cost, were, as earlier, great periods of religious observance. 
Easter was preceded by a forty days' fast, though the method 
of reckoning this lenten period varied. The Roman system 
became ultimately that of the whole West, and continues to 
the present. The whole of Holy Week was now a time of 
special penitential observance, passing over to the Easter re- 
joicing. By the fourth century the observance of Ascension 
was general. The chief addition to the festivals of the church 
which belongs to this period is that of Christmas. Apparently 
no feast of Christ's nativity was held in the church till into 
the fourth century. By the second century, January 6 had been 
observed by the Gnostic disciples of Basilides as the date of 
Jesus' baptism. At a time not now apparent, but probably 
about the beginning of the fourth century, this was regarded 
in the East as the time of Christ's birth also, by reason of an 
mterpretation of Luke 3^, which made Him exactly thirty 
years old at His baptism. Other factors were at work, how- 
ever. It was an opinion in the third century that the universe 
was created at the vernal equinox, reckoned in the Julian 
calendar as March 25. Similar habits of thought would make 
the beginning of the new creation, the inception of the incarna- 
tion, fall on the same day, and therefore Christ's birth on the 
winter solstice, December 25. That that date, when the sun 
begins to turn, was the birthday of the Mithraic Sol Intdctus, 
was not probably the reason of the choice, though it may well 
have commended it as substituting a great Christian for a 
popular heathen festival. At all events, the celebration of 
December 25 as Christmas appears first in Rome, apparently 
in 353 or 354, though it may date from 336. From Rome it 
spread to the East, being introduced into Constantinople, 
probably by Gregory of Nazianzus, between 378 and 381. A 
sermon of Chrysostom, preached in Antioch in 388, declares 
that the celebration was then not ten years old in the East, 
and the discourse was delivered, it would appear, on the first 
observance of December 25 in the Syrian capital. It reached 
Alexandria between 400 and 432.^ From its inauguration, 

* Kinppp Lake, in Hastings's Encuclopasdia of Religion and Ethics, 3*"^-'. 


Christmas became one of the great festivals of the church, 
comparable only with Easter and Pentecost. 


The beginnings of veneration of martyrs and of their relics 
nm back to the middle^ of the second centmy. Their deaths 
were regularly commemorated with public services (ante, p. 
93). With the conversion of Constantine, however, and the 

i^ accession to the church of masses fresh from heathenism, this 
reverence largely increased. Constantine himself built a great 
church in honor of Peter in Rome. His mother, Helena, made 
a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where the true cross was thought to 
be discovered. Men looked back on the time of persecution 
with much reason, as a heroic age, and upon its martyrs as the 
athletes of the Christian race. Popular opinion, which had 
long sanctioned the remembrance of the martyrs in prayer 
and worship, had passed over, before the close of the fourth 
century, to the feeling that they were to be prayed to as in- 
tercessors with God,^ and as able to protect, heal, and aid 
those who honored them. There arose thus a popidar Chris- 

^ tianity of the second rank, as Hamack has well called it. The 
martyrs, for the masses, took the place of the old gods and 
heroes. To the martyrs, popular feeling added distinguished 
ascetics, church leaders, and opponents of heVesy. There was, 
as yet, no regular process of weighing claims to sainthood. 
Inclusion in its ranks was a matter of common opinion. They 
were guardians of cities, patrons of trades, curers of disease. 
They are omnipresent. As Jerome expressed it: "They fol- 
low the Lamb, whithersoever He goeth. If the Lamb is present 
everywhere, the same must be believed respecting those who 
are with itxe Lamb.'^' They were honored with burning 

Chief of all these sacred personages was the Virgin Mary. 
Pious fancy busied itself with her early. To Irenseus she was . 
the second Eve (ante, p. 66). Yet, curiously enough, she did 
not stand out pre-eminent till well into the fourth century, at 
least in the teaching of the intellectual circles in the church, 
though popular legend, as reflected for instance in the apocry- 

^ Augustine, Sermoiu, 159^ * Affainat Viffilanlius, 6. 

• /Wd., 7. 


phal Protedongdium qf James, had made much of her. Ascetic 
feeling, as illustrated in Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria, 
asserted her perpetual virginity. With the rise of monasticism, 
the Virgin became a monastic ideal. The full elevation of 
Mary to the first among created beings came with the Chris- 
tological controversies, and the complete sanction of the de- 
scription "Mother of God,'' in the condemnation of Nestorius 
and the decision of the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon. 
Thenceforth the Virgin was foremost among all saints in pop- 
ular and official 'reverence alike. To her went out much of 
that feeling which had found expression in the worship of the 
mother goddesses of Egypt, Syria, and Ada Minor^ though in 
a far nobler f onn. Above tiiat was the reverence rightfully her 
due as the chosen vehicle of the incarnation. All tiiat martyr 
or Apostle could do for the faithful as intercessor or protector, 
she, as blessed above them, could dispense in yet mo^ abundant 
measure. In proportion, also, as the Cynllic interpretation 
of the Chalcedonian creed and Monophydtism tended to em- 
phasize the divine in Christ at the expense of the human, and 
therefore, however imintentionally, put Him afar from men, 
she appeared a winsome sympathizer with our humanity. 
In a measure, she took the place of her Son, as mediator be- 
tween God and man. 

The roots of angel-worship are to be found in apostolic times,^ 
yet though made much of in certain Gnostic ^stems, and 
playing a great rdle, for instance, in the speculations of an 
Qrigen, angels were not conspicuously objects of Christian 
reverence till late in the f ourdi century. They were always 
far less definite and graspable by the common mind than the 
martyrs. Reverence for angels was given great furtherance 
by the Neo-Platonic Christian mystic work composed in the 
last quarter of the fifth century in the name of Dionytius the 
Areopagite,' and called that of Pseudo-Dionysius. Of all 
angelic beings, the Archangel Michael was the most honored. 
A church in commemoration of him was built a few miles from 
Constantinople by Constantine, and one existed in Rome early 
in the fifth century. When the celebration of his festival on 
Michaelmas, September 29 — one of the most popular of medi- 
Kval feast-days in the West — ^was instituted, is uncertain. 

It has already been pointed out that reverence for relics 

» Col, 2". • AeU 17»<. 



began early. By the fourth century it was being devdoped 
to an enonnous extent, and included not merely the mortal 
remains of martyrs and saints, but all manner of articles asso- 
ciated, it was believed, with Christ, the Apostles, and the 
heroes of the church. Their wide-spread use is illustrated by 
the statute of the Seventh General Council (787): "If any 
bishop from this time forward is found consecrating a temple 
without holy relics, he shall be deposed as^a transgressor of 
the ecclesiastical traditions."^ Closely connected with this 
reverence for relics was the valuation placed on pilgrimages 
to places where they were preserved, and above all to the Holy 
Land, or to Rome. 

Reverence for pictures was slower in gaining a foothold. 
It seemed too positively connected with the ancient idolatry. 
By the time of Cyril of Alexandria, however, it was rapidly 
spreading in the Eastern Church, where it became, if anything, 
more prevalent than in the West. The struggles ending in the 
full authorization of pictures by the Seventh General Council 
have already been narrated {arde, p. 163). Christian feeling 
was that representation on a flat surface only, paintings, and 
mosaics, not statues, should be allowed, at least in the interior 
of churches, and this remains the custom of the Greek Church 
to the present, though this restriction was not a matter of 
church law. 

This Christianity of the second rank profoundly affected the 
life of the people, but it had also its heartiest supporters in the 
monks, and it was furthered rather than resisted by the great 
leaders of the chiu*ch, certainly after the middle of the fifth 
century. It undoubtedly made the way from heathenism to 
Christianity easier for tiiousands, but it largely heathenized 
the church itself. 


While East and West shared in the theological development 
already outlined, and Western influences contributed much to 
the official decisions in the Arian and Christological contro- 
versies, there was a very appreciable difference in the weight 
of theological interest in the two portions of the empire. 'Hie 
West produced no really conspicuous theological leader between 

* Canon 7. 


Cyprian (d. 258) and Ambrose (340?-397). Even Hilaiy of 
Poitiers (300 ?~367) was not sufficiently eminent as an original 
thinker to make a real exception. Both Hilary and Ambrose 
were devoted students of the Greek Fathers — ^the latter espe- 
cially of the great Cappadodans. Though Tertullian was per- 
sonidly discredited by his Montanism, his influence lived on in 
the greatly valued Cyprian. While, therefore, Greek elements 
entered largely into Western thinking, it developed its own pe- 

The western part of the empire was disposed, like Tertullian, 
to view Christianity under judicial rather than, like the East, * 
under philosophical aspects. Its thought of the Gospel was 
that primarUy of a new law. While tiie West did not deny 
the Eastern conception that salvation is a making divine and 
immortal of oiu* smf ul mortality, that conception was too ab- 
stract for it readily to grasp. Its own thought was that sal- 
vation is getting right with Grod. Hence, in Tertullian, Cyprian, I 
and Ambrose there is a deeper sense, of sin, and a clearer con- 
ception of grace than in the East. Religion in the West had a 
closer relation to the acts of every-day life than in the East. ^ 
It was more a forgiveness of definitely recognized evil acts, 
and less an abstract transformation of nature, than in the East 
— ^more an overcoming of sin, and less a rescue from earthiness 
and death. In the West, through the teaching of Tertullian, 
Cyprian, and Ambrose, sin was traced to an inherited vitiation 
of hmnan nature in a way that had no corresponding parallel 
in the East. There can be no doubt, also, that this Western 
estimate of sin and grace, imperfectly worked out though it 
yet was, combined with the firmer ecclesiastical organization 
of the West, gave the Western Church a stronger control of the : 
daily life of the people than was achieved by that of the East. 
All these Western peculiarities were to come to their full fruition 
in the work of Augustine. 


Jerome was the ablest scholar that the ancient Western 
Church could boast. Bom about 340 in Stride in Dalmatia, 
he studied in Rome, where he was baptized by Pope Liberius 
in 360. Aquileia he made his headquarters for a while, where 
he became the friend of Rufinus (?HL10), the translator of 


Origen, like Jerome to be a supporter of monasticism and a 
monk in Palestine, but with whom he was to quarrel over 
Origen's orthodoxy. Jerome had a restless desire to know the 
scholarly and religious world. From 366 to 370 he visited the 
cities of Gaul, l^e next three yeara saw him again in Aquileia. 
Then came a journey through the Orient to Antioch, where he 
was overtaken with a severe illness in which he believed Christ 
Himself appeared and reproached him for devotion to the 
classics* He now turned to the Scriptures, studying Hebrew, 
and living as a hermit from 373 to 379, not far from Antioch. 
Ordained a presbyter m Antioch, in 379, he studied in Constan- 
tinople under Gregory Nazianzus. The year 382 saw him in 
Rome, where he won the hearty support of Pope Damasus 
(366-384), and preached in season and out of season the merits 
of the monastic life. Soon he had a large following, especially 
among Roman women of position ; but also much enmity, even 
among the clergy, for monasticism was not as yet popular in 
the West, and Jerome himself was one of the most vindictive 
of disputants. The death of Damasus made Jerome's position 
so uncomfortable in Rome that he retired, in 385, to Antioch, 
whither a number of his Roman converts to monastic celibacy, 
led by Pai(U and her daughter, Eustochiiun, soon followed him. 
With them he journeyed through Palestine and to the chi^ 
monastic establishments of Egypt, returning to Bethlehem in 
386, where Paula built nunneries and a monastery for men. 
Here, as head of the monastery, Jerome made his headquarters 
till his death, in 420. 

Jerome's best use of his imquestionable learning was as a 
translator of the Scriptures. The older Latin veraons were 
crude, and had fallen into much corruption. Pope Damasus 
proposed to Jerome a revision. That he completed for the 
New Testament about 388. The Old Testament he then trans- 
lated in Bethlehem, with the aid of Jewish friends. It is a 
proof of Jerome's soundness of scholarship that, in spite even 
of the wishes of Augustine, he went back of the Septuagint to 
the Hebrew. The result of Jerome's work was the Vtdgate, 
still in use in the Roman Church. It is his best monument. 
Jerome had, also, no small deserts as a historian. He con- 
tinued the Chronicle of Eusebius. His De Viris Inbainbus is 
a biographical dictionary of Christian writers to and including 
himself. He was an abundant conunentator on the Scriptures. 


He urged by treatise and by letter the advantages of celibacy 
and of the monastic life. As a theologian he had little that 
was original to offer. He was an impassioned defender of tra- 
dition and of Western popular usage. A controversialist who 
loved disputation, he attacked opponents of asceticism like 
Jovinianus, critics of relic-reverence like Vigilantius, and those 
who, like Helvidius, held that Mary had other children than 
our Lord. He condenmed Origen, whom he had once admired. 
He wrote in support of Augustine against the Pelagians. In 
these controversial writings Jerome's littleness of spirit is often 
painfully manifest. Though deserving to be reckoned, as he 
is by the Roman Church, one of its "Doctors," by reason of 
the greatness of his learning and the use which he made of it, 
the title "saint" seems more a tribute to the scholar than to 
the man. 


In Augustine the ancient church reached its highest religious 
attainment since apostolic times. Though his influence in the 
'East was to be relatively slight, owing to the nature of the 
questions with which he was primarily concerned, all Western 
Christianity was to become his debtor. Such superiority as 
Western rdigious life came to possess over that of tibe East was 
primarily his bequest to it. He was to be the father of much 
that was most characteristic in mediseval Roman Catholicism. 
He was to be the spiritual ancestor, no less, of much in the 
Reformation. His tibeology, though buttressed by the Scrip- 
tures, philosophy, and ecclesiastical tradition, was so largely 
rooted in his own experience as to render his story more than 
usually the interpretation of the man. 

Africa gave three gr^t leaders to Latin Christiamty, Ta> 
tuUian, Cyprian, and Augustine. Augustine was bom in 
Tagaste, in Numidia, now Suk Ahras in the Department of 
Constantuie in Algeria, on November^.J3,J364. His father, 
Patricius, was a heathen of good position but of small property, 
an easy-going, worldly character, who did not embrace Chris- 
tianity till near the end of life. His mother^ Monnica, was a 
Christian woman of high worth, eagerly ambitious for her son, 
though the full radiance of her Christian life was to be mani- 
fested in her later years, developed through Ambrose and 



I Augustine himself. In Augustine there were two natures^ one 
I passionate and sensuous, the other eagerly high-minded and 
I truth-seeking. It may not be wrong to say that father and 
mother were reflected in him. From Tagaste he was sent for 
the sake of schooling to the neighboring Madaura, and thence 
to Carthage, where he pursued the study of rhetoric. Here, 
when about seventeen, he took a concubine, to whom he was 
to hold for at least fourteen years, and to them a son, Adeo- 
^ datus, whom he dearly loved, was bom in 372. If the sensuous 
; Augustine was thus early aroused, the truth-seeking Augustine 
was speedily ^.wakened. When nineteen, the study of Cicero's 
now almost completely lost Hortensius '' changed my affec^ 
tions, and turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord." * This im- 
perfect conversion caused Augustine to desire to seek truth as 
that alone of value. He began to study the Scriptures, " but 
they appeared to me unwortiiy to be compared with the dig- 
nity of Cicero." ' He now turned for spiritual and intellectual 
comfort to the syncretistic, dualistic system known as Mani- 
chseism (ante, p. 107). He was willing to pray '* Grant me chas- 
tity and continence, but not yet." • 

For nine years Augustine remained a Maniduean, living 
pardy in Carthage and partiy in Tagaste, engaged in study and 
teaching. He was crowned at Carthage for a theatrical poem.^ 
He gathered friends about him, of whom Alypius was to prove 
the closest. As he went on he began to doubt the intellectual 
and moral adequacy of Manichseism. His associates urged 
him to meet the highly respected Manichaean leader, Faustus. 
The inadequacy of Faustus's expositions completed his mental 
disillusion. Though he remained outwardly a Manichsaan, 
Augustine was now inwardly a sceptic. By the advice of Man- 
ichsean friends Augustine removed to Rome in 383, and by their 
aid, in 384, he obtained from the prefect, Symmachus, a gov- 
ernment appointment as teacher of rhetoric in Milan — ^then 
the Western capital of the empire. 

Here in Milan, Augustine came under the powerful preadb- 
ing of Ambrose, whom he heard as an illustration of pulpit 
eloquence rather than with approval of the message, since he 
was now under the sway of the sceptical philosophy of the 
New Academy. Here Monnica and Alypius joined him. At 

* Confe^Hons, 3*. » Ibid., ZK 

• Ibid,, 8^ • Ibid,, 4». •• 


his mother's wish he now became betrothed as befitted his 
station in life, though marriage was postponed on aecomit of 
the youth of the woman. He dismissed regretfully his faith- 
ful concubine and entered on an even less creditable relation 
with another.^ It was the lowest point of his moral life. At 
this juncture Augustine came in contact with Neo-Platonism, 
{ante, p. 106), through the translations of Victorinus. It was 
aknost a revelation to him. Instead of the materialism and 
dualism of Manichseism, he now saw in the spiritual world the i 
only real world, and in God the source not only of all good,/ 
but of all reality. Evil was no positive existence, as with the 
Manichaeans. It was negative, a lack of good, an alienation 
of the will from God. To know Grod is the highest of blessings. 
This new philosophy, which always colored Augustine's teach- 
ings, made it possible for him to accept Christianity. He was 
impressed by tiie authority of the church, as a hearer of Ambrose 
might well have been. As he said later, "I should not believe 
the Gospel except as moved by the authority of the Catholic 
Church.'; \ 

A crisis in Augustine's experience was now at hand. He 
had never felt more painfully the cleft between his ideals and 
his conduct. He was impressed by learning of the Christian 
profession made in old age, some years before, by the Neo- 
Platonist Victorinus, whose writings had so recently influenced 
him.* A travelled African, Pontitianus, told him and Alypius 
of the monastic life of Egypt. He was filled with shame that 
ignorant men like these monks could put away temptations 
which he, a man of learning, felt powerless to resist.* Over- 
come with self-condemnation, he rushed into the garden and 
there heard the voice of a child from a neighboring house, say- 
ing : "Take up and read." He reached for a copy of the epistles 
that he had been reading, and his eyes fell on the words : "Not 
in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wanton- 
ness, not in strife and envying ; but put ye on the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts 
thereof."* From that moment Augustine had the peace of < 
mind and the sense of divine power to overcome his sins which 
he had thus far sought in vain. It may be that it was, as it 

^ Confessions, 6^^ * Against the Epistle of Manichaus, 5; Ayer, p. 455. 

• Cor^essians, 8« ; Ayer, pp. 431-433. < Confessions, SK 

* Ramans 13"» "; Confessions, 8"; Ayer, pp. 435-437. 


has been called, a conversion to monasticism. If so, that was 
but its outward form. In its essence it was a fundamental 
1 Christian transformation of nature. 

/y Augustine's conversion occiured in the late summer of 386. 
He resigned his professorship partly on account of illness, and 
now retired with his friends to the estate named Cassisiacum, 
to await baptism. He was far from being the master in the- 
ology as yet. His most characteristic tenets were undeveloped. 
He was still primarily a Christianized Neo-Platonist ; but the 
type of his piety was already determined. At Cassisiacum the 
friends engaged in philosophical discussion, and Augustine 
wrote some of the earliest of his treatises. At the Easter season 

I of 387 he was baptized, with Adeodatus and Alypius, by Am- 
brose in Milan. Augustine now left Milan for his birthplace. 
On the journey Monnica died in Ostia. The story of her 
death, as told by Augustine, is one of the noblest monuments 
of ancient Christian literature.^ His plans thus changed, he 
lived for some months in Rome, but by the autumn of 388 was 
once more in Tagaste. Here he dwelt with a group of friends, 
busied in studies much as at Cassisiaciun. Diuing this period 
in Tagaste his brilliant son, Adeodatus, died. Augustine 
thought to found a monastery, and to further this project went 
to Hippo, near the modem Bona, in Algeria, early in 391. 
There he was ordained to the priesthood, almost forcibly. 
Four years later he was ordained colleague-bishop of Hippo. 
When his aged associate, Valerius, died is unknown, but Augus- 
tine probably soon had full episcopal charge. In Hippo he 
founded the first monastery in that portion of Africa, and 
made it also a training-school for the clergy. He died on 
August 28, 430, during the siege of Hippo by die Vandals. 

Almost from the time of his baptism Augustine wrote against 
the Manichseans. With his entrance on the ministry, and es- 
pecially as bishop, he was brought into conflict with the Dona- 
tists {fltde^ p. 113), then wide-spread in northern Africa. This 
discussion led Augustine to a full consideration of the church, 
its nature and its authority. By the early years of his episco- 
pate he had reached his characteristic opinions on sin and 
grace. They were not the product of the great Pelagian con- 
troversy which occupied much of his strength from 412 onward, 
though that struggle clarified their expression. 

^ CanfessioM, 9»-". 

/^r^. ... 


The secret of much of Augustine's influence lay in his mys- ^ 
tical piety. Its fullest expression^ though everywhere to be 
found in his works, is perhaps in the remarkable Confessions, 
written about 400, in which he gave an accoimt of his experi- 
ences to his conversion. No other similar spiritual autobi- 
ography was written in the ancient church, and few at any 
period in church history. It has always stood a classic of re- 
ligious experience. ''Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our 
hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee" {V). ^'It 
is good, then, for me to cleave unto God, for if I remain not in 
Him, neither shall I in myself ; but He, remaining in Himself, 
reneweth all things. And Thou art the Lord my God, since 
Thou standest not m need of my goodness'' (7^). '^I sought 
a way of acquiring strength sufficient to enjoy Thee; but I 
found it not until I embraced that 'Mediator between Chxl and 
man, the man Christ Jesus,' ' who is over all God blessed for- 
ever' calling me" (7"). "My whole hope is only in Thy ex- 
ceeding great merpy. Give what Thou commandest, and 
command what Thou wilt" (1(P). " I will love Thee, O Lord, 
and thank Thee, and confess imto Thy name, because Thou 
hast put away from me these so wicked and nefarious acts of 
nunc. To Thy grace I attribute it, and to Thy mercy, that 
Thou hast melted away my dn as it were ice'' (2^. Here is a 
deeper note of personal devotion than the church had heard 
ance Paul, and the conception of religion as a vital relationship 
to the living God was one the influence of which was to be 
pennanent, even if often but partially comprehended. 

Augustine's first thought of God was thus always one of per- . 
sonal connection with a being in whom man's only real satisfac- 
tion or good is to be found ; but when he thought of God philo- 
sophically, it'was in terms borrowed from Neo-Platonism. God 
is simple, absolute b^g, as distinguished from all created things 
which are manifold and variable. He is the basis and source 
of all that really exists. This conception led Augustine to em- 
phasize the divine unity, even when treating of the Trinity* 
His doctrine he set forth in his great work On <i^ Triniiy. It be- 
came determinative henceforth of Western thinking. '' Father, 
Son, and Holy Spirit, one Qod, alone, great, onmipotent, good, 
just, merciful, creator of all things visible and invisible."^ 
'^ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, of one and the same substance^ 


God the creator, the omnipotent Trinity, work indivisibly " (4"). 
"Neither three Grods, nor three goods, but one (Jod, good, om- 
nipotent, the Trinity itself."* Tertullian, Origen, and Atha- 
nasius had taught the subordination of the Son and Spirit to 
the Father. Augustine so emphasized the unity as to teach 
the full equality of the "persons." "There is so great an 
equality in that Trinity, that not only the Father is not greater 
than the Son, as regards divinity, but neither are the Father and 
the Son together greater than the Holy Spirit." ^ Augustine 
was not satisfied with the distinction "persons"; but it was 
consecrated by usage, and he could find nothing more fitting: 
"When it is asked, what are the three? human language labors 
imder great poverty of speech. Yet we say, three 'persons,* 
not in order to express it, but in order not to be silent." ' It 
is evident that, though Augustine held firmly to the ecclesias- 
tical tradition, his own inclinations, and his Neo-Platonic phi- 
losophy inclined toward the Modalistic Monarchian position. 
It would, however, be wholly unjust to call him a Modalist. 
He attempted to illustrate the Trinity by many comparisons, 
such as memory, understanding, will,^ or the even more famous 
lover, loved, and love.* 

This sense of unity and equality made Augustine hold that 
"God the Father alone is He from whom the Word is bom, 
and from whom the Holy Spirit principally proceeds. And 
therefore I have added the word principally, because we find 
that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Son also."^ Eastern 
remains of subordinationism and feeling that the Father is 
the sole source of all, taught that the Holy Spirit proceeds from 
the Father alone, but Augustine had prepared the way for that 
fUioque, which, acknowledged in Spain, at the Third Council 
of Toledo, in 589, as a part of the so-called Nicene creed, spread 
over the West, and remains to this day a dividing issue between 
the Greek and Latin Churches. 

In the incarnation Augustine emphasized the human as 
strongly as the divine. "Christ Jesus, the Son of God, b both 
God and man ; Grod before all worlds; man in our world. • . . 
Wherefore, so far as He is God, He and the Father are one ; so 
far as He is man, the Father is greater than He." ^ He is the 

1 THnUy, 8, Preface, 


• Ibid., 5*. 

« /Wd., 10". 

• Ibid., 9«. 


* Enchiridion, 35. 


only mediator between (rod and man, through whom alone 
there is forgiveness of sins. ''It [Adam's sin] cannot be pardoned 
and blotted out except through the one mediator between God 
and man, the man, Christ Jesus." ^ Christ's death is the basis 
of that remission. As to the exact significance of that death, 
Augustine had not thought to consistent clearness. He viewed 
it sometimes as a sacrifice to God, sometimes as an endurance 
of our punishment in our stead, and sometimes as a ransom by 
which men are freed from the power of the devil. To a degree 
not to be found in the Greek tiieologians, Augustine laid stress 
on the significance of the hiunble life of Jesus. That himulity 
was in vivid contrast to the pride which was the characteristic 
note in the 3in of Adam. It is an example to men. ''The true 
mediator, whom in Thy secret mercy Thou hast pointed out 
to the himible, and didst send, that by His example also they 
might learn the same humility." ^ 

Man, according to Augustine, was created good and upright, 
possessed of free will, endowed with the possibility of not sin- 
ning and of immortality.' There was no discord in his nature. 
He was happy and in communion with God.* From this 
state Adam fell by sin, the essence of which was pride.** Its 
consequence was the loss of good.® (rod's grace was forfeited, 
the soul died, since it was forsaken of God.^ The body, no 
longer controlled by the soul, came under the dominion of 
"concupiscence," of which the worst and most characteristic 
manifestation is lust. Adam fell into a state of total and hope- 
less ruin, of which the proper ending is eternal death.* This sin 
and its consequences involved all the human race; ''for we 
were all in that one man [Adam] when we were all that man 
who fell into sin." • "The Apostle, however, has declared 
concerning the first man that 'in him all have sinned.'"^® 
Not only were all men sinners in Adam, but their sinful state 
is made worse since all are bom of "concupiscence." " The 
result is that the whole himian race, even to the youngest in- 
fant is a "mass of perdition," ^^ and as such deserves the wrath 
of God. From this hopeless state of original sin " no one, no, 

1 Enchiridion, 48. * ConfeaaionSf 10". * Bdjvke and Grace, 33. 

* City of God, 14*«. » Natwre and Grace, 33. • EnMridum, 11. 

» C% of God, 13«. • Ibid., WK • Ibid., 13" ; Ayer, p. 439. 

" Romane 6" ; Forgiuenese of Sinst 1". " Marriage, 1*'. 
^ Original Sin, U. 


not one, has been delivered, or is bemg delivered, or ever will 
be delivered, except by the grace of the Redeemer." ^ 

Salvation comes by God's grace, which is wholly mideserved, 
and wholly free. ''Wages is paid as a recompense for mili- 
tary service. It is not a gift; wherefore he says 'the wages of 
sin is death, ' to show that death was not inflicted undeservedly, 
but as the due recompense of sin. But a gift, unless it is wholly 
unearned, is not a gift at all. We are to understand, then, that 
man's good deserts are themselves the gift of God, so that when 
these obtain the recompense of etemd life, it b simply grace 
given for grace." ' Tlus grace comes to those to whom God 
chooses to send it. He therefore predestinates whom He will, 
*'to punishment and to salvation." ' The number of each dass 
is fixed.^ Augustine had held, in the period immediately fol- 
lowing his conversion, that it is in man's power to accept or 
reject grace, but even before the Pelagian controversy, he had 
come to the conclusion that grace is irresistible. The effect of 
this saving grace b twofold. Faith b instilled, and sins, both 
original and personal, are forj^ven at baptism: ''The faith by 
which we are Christians is the gift of God." ^ As such it b 
immediate justification. But grace does much more. As with 
Tertullian (ante, p. 69), it b the infusion of love by the Holy 
Spirit. It frees the enslaved will to choose that which b pleas- 
ing to Grod, "not only in order that they may know, by the 
manifestation of that grace, what should be done, but more- 
over in order that, by its enabling, they may do witJi love what 
they know."^ It is a gradual transformation of nature, a 
sanctification. Through us, God does good works, which He 
rewards as if they were men's own and to which He ascribes 
merit. No man can be sure of hb salvation in thb life. He 
may have grace now, but, unless God adds the gift of persever- 
ance, he will not maintain it to the end.^ It would seem that 
Augustine may have been led to thb conclusion largdy by the 
doctrine of baptismal regeneration. It b evident that if men 
receive grace at baptism, many do not keep it. 

Thb doctrine of grace was coupled in Augustine with a high 
valuation of the vbible Catholic Churdi, as that only in which 
the true infusion of love by the Holy Spirit may be found. 

ian0Mai5m,84 * Bnehiridion, im. • /M., 100 ; Ay«r, p. 442. 

« A^, p. 442. ■ PredetHnatUm, 3. • BeMbe and OracB, 3. 
' CHft if P0r§everanee, 1. 


Replying to the Donatists, who were thoroughly '' orthodox'' 
in doctrine and organization, and yet rejected the Catholic 
Church as impure, because allowing the sacraments to be ad- 
mimstered by men who may have been guilty of 'Meadly *' sins, 
Augustine said : ^^Those are wanting in God's love who do not 
care for the unity of the Church; and consequently we are 
right in understanding that the Holy Spirit may be said not 
to be received except in the Catholic Church • • • whatever, 
therefore, may be received by heretics and schismatics, the 
charity which covereth the multitude of sins is the especial 
gift of Catholic unity/' ^ Sacraments are the work of God, \ 
not of men. They do not, therefore, depend on the character [ 
of the administrator. Hence baptism or regular ordination 
need not be repeated on entering the Catholic Church. But 
while those outside have thus the true and valid form of the 
sacraments, it is only in the Catholic Church that the sacra- 
ments attain their appropriate fruition, for there only can that 
love be found to which they witness, and which is of the essence 
of the Christian life. Even in the Catholic Church, not all are 
in the way of salvation. That is a mixed company, of good and 
bad. " It is not by different baptisms, but by ihe same, that 
good Catholics are saved, and bad Catholics or heretics perish.'' ' 

To Augustine, sacraments mclude all the holy usages and rites / 
of the church. They are the visible signs of the sacred things 
which they signify. Thus, he names as sacraments, exorcism, 
ordination, marriage, and even the salt given to catechumens. 
Baptism and the Lord's Supper are pre-eminentiy sacraments. 
By the sacraments the church is knit together. ''There can be 
no religious society, whether the religion be true or false, without 
some sacrament or visible symbol to serve as a bond of un- 
ion." ' Furthermore, the sacraments are necessary for salvation. 
''The churches of Christ maintain it to be an inherent principle, 
that without baptism and partaking of the Supper of the Lord 
it is impossible for any man to attain either to the kingdom of 
God or to salvation and everlasting life."^ Yet, by reason 
of his doctrines of grace and predestination, the sacraments 
for Augustine are signs of spiritual realities, rather than those 
realities themselves. They are essential; but the verities to 
which they witness are, whenever received, the work of divine 

» BaptiMi, 3". «. « Ibid., 6". «•. 

• Reply to Fau8tu9^ 19". * Forgivenesa of Sins, I". 


grace. He who does not " obstruct faith " may expect, however, 
to receive the benefit of the sacrament.^ The problem was not 
yet wrought out as it was to be in the Middle Ages; but Augus- 
tine may be called the father of the doctrine of the sacraments 
in the Western Church. 

Augustine's greatest treatise was his CUy of God, begun in 
412, in the dark days after the capture of Rome by Alaric, and 
finished about 426. It was his philosophy of history, and his 
defense of Christianity against the heathen charge that neg- 
lect of the old gods under whom Rome had grown great was 
the cause of its downfall. He showed that the worsUp of the 
old gods had neither given Rome strength, virtue, nor assurance 
of a happy future life. The loss of the old gods, that the wor- 
ship of the one true Grod should come, was not a loss, but a 
great gain. Augustine then discusses the creation and the 
origin and consequences of evil. That brings him to his great 
theory of history. Since the first rebellion against (Jod "two 
cities have been formed by two loves ; the earthly by love of 
self, even to the contempt of God ; the heavenly by the love 
of Grod, even to the contempt of self."* These had their rep- 
resentatives in Cain and Abel. Of the City of God, all have 
been members who have confessed themselves strangers and 
pilgrims on the earth. The Earthly City has as its highest 
representatives heathen Babylon and Rome, but all other civil 
states are its embodiment. It is a relative good. To it peace 
and civil order are due. In a world of sin, though having love 
of self as its principle, it represses disorder and secures to each 
his own. But it must pass away as the City of Grod grows. 
Those who make up the City of God are the elect whom God 
has chosen to salvation. These are now in the visible church, 
though not all in that church are elect* "Therefore the church 
even now is the kingdom of Christ, and the kingdom of 
heaven. Accordingly, even now His saints reign with Him, 
though otherwise than as they shall reign hereafter; and yet, 
though the tares grow in the church along with the wheat, tiiey 
do not reign wi^ Him." * The visible, hierarchically organ- 
ized chiudb it is, therefore, that is the City of Grod, and must 
more and more rule the world. In this teaching of Augustine 
lay much of the philosophic basis of the theory of the mediaeval 

1 LeUera, 98"; Ayer, p. 450. « City of God, 14«. » Ibid., 20>. 


It is evident that, clear as was the system of Augustine in 
many respects, it contained profound contradictions, due to 
the intermingling of deep, religious and Neo-Platonic thoughts 
and popular ecclesiastical traditionalism. Thus, he taught a 
predestination in which God sends grace to whom He will, yet 
he confined salvation to the visible church endowed with a 
sacramental ecdesiasticism. He approached the distinction 
made at the Reformation between the visible and the invisi- 
ble church, without clearly reaching it. His heart piety, 
also, saw the Christian life as one of personal relation to God 
in faith and love, yet he taught no less positively a l^^alistic 
and monastic asceticism. The Middle Ages did not advance 
in these respects beyond Augustine. It did not reconcile his 
contradictions. It is by reason of them that most various later 
movements could draw inspiration from hioi. 


Augustine's most famous controversy, and that in which his 
teachings on sin and grace came to clearest expression, was witii 
Pelagius and that teacher's disdples. Pelagius was a British, 
or perhaps an Irish monk, of excellent repute, much learning, 
and great moral earnestness, who had settied in Rome about 
the year 400, when probably well on in years. He seems to 
have been shocked at the low tone of Roman morals and to 
have labored eamestiy to seciue more strenuous ethical stand- 
ards. Instead of bemg an innovator, his teaching In many 
ways represented older views than those of Augustine. With 
the East generally, and in agreement with many in the West, 
he held to the freedom of the human wiQ. '^ If I ought, I can,'' 
well expresses his position. His attitude was that of the popu- 
lar Stoic ethics. '' As often as I have to speak of the principles 
of virtue and a holy life, I am accustomed first of all to call 
attention to the capacity and character of human nature and 
to show what it is able to accomplish ; then from this to arouse 
the feelings of the hearer, that he may strive after different 
kinds of virtue." ^ He, therefore, denied any original sin in- 
herited from Adam, and affirmed that all men now have the 
power not to sin. Like the Stoics generally, he recognized that 
the mass of men are bad. Adam's sin set them an ill example, 

^*Ayer, pp. 458, 459. 


which they have been quick to follow. Hence they afanost all 
need to be set right. This is accomplished by justification by 
faith alone, through baptism, by reason of the work of Christ. 
No man between Paul and Liudier so emphasized justification 
by faith alone. After baptism, man has full power and duty 
to keep the divine law. 

Pelagius won a vigorous follower in the much younger 
Coelestius, a lawyer, and possibly a Roman though he has been 
daimed as an Irisfajnan. About 410, the two went to North 
Africa and called on Augustine in Hippo, without finding him. 
Pelagius then journeyed to the East, while Coelestius renuuned 
in Carthage and sought to be ordained a presbyter by Bishop 
Aurelius. That bishop now lecdved from Paulinus, a deacon 
of Milan, a letter charging Coelestius with six errors. (1) 
''Adam was made mortal and would have died whether he had 
sinned or had not sinned. (2) The sin of Adam injured him- 
self alone, and not the human race. (3) New-bom children are 
in that state in which Adam was before his fall. (4) Neith^ 
by the death and sin of Adam does the whole race die, nor by 
the resurrection of Christ does the whole race rise. (5) The 
law leads to the kingdom of heaven as well as the Gospd. 
(6) Even before the coming of the Lord there were men with- 
out sin.'' ^ This was an unfriendly statement, but Coelestius 
did not reject it; and it probably represents his views, which 
may have beoi somewhat more radical than those of Pelagius. 
An advisory synod in Carthage, in 411, decided agamst his 
ordination. Coelestius then journeyed to Ephesus, where he 
apparentiy recdved the desired consecration. 

Augustine had not been present in Carthage, but he soon 
heard of the matter, and at once began his long-continued 
literary polemic against Pelagianism, which he found had 
many supporters. Augustine's own relij^ous experience was 
deeply wounded. He believed that he had been saved by 
y irresistible di^e grace from dns which he could never have 
overcome by his own strength. He held Pelagius in error as 
denying original sin, rejecting salvation by infused grace, and 
affirming human power to live without sin. Pelagius did not 
reject grace, but to him grace was remission of sins in baptism 
and general divine teaching. To Augustine the miun work of 
grace was that infusion of love by which character is gradually 

* Ayer, p. 461. 


transformed. Pelagius found support in the East. Early in 
415> Augustine sent Orosius to Jerome, then in Palestine, to 
interest him for the Augustinian cause. By Jerome, Pelagius 
was accused before Bishop John of Jerusalem, but was approved 
by the bishop ; and before the year was out, a synod held in 
Diospolis (Lydda in Palestine) declared Pelagius orthodox. 

In this situation Augustine and his friends caused two North 
African synods to be held in 416, one for its local district in 
Carthage and the other for Numidia in Mileve. These con- 
denmed the Pelagian opinions and appealed to Pope Innocent 
I (402-417) for confirmation. Innocent was undoubtedly 
pleased at this recognition of papal authority, and did as the 
African synods wished. Innocent died shortly after, and was 
succeeded by Zosimus (417-418), a Greek, and therefore nat- 
urally no special sympathizer with the distinctive Augustinian 
portions. To Zosimus, Coeiestius now appealed in person. 
The new Pope declared that the African synods had been too 
hasty, and seems to have regarded Codestius as orthodox. A 
new synod met in Carthage early in 418, but the Africans made 
a more effective move. In April, 418, at thdr instance the 
Western Emperor, Honorius, issued a rescript condemning 
Felagianism and ordering the exile of its adherents. In May 
a large council was held in Carthage, which held that Adam 
became mortal by sin, that children should be baptized for the 
remission of original sin, that grace was necessary for right 
living, and that sinlessness is impossible in this life. Moved 
by these actions, Zoamus now issued a circular letter condemn- 
ing Pelagius and Ccelestius. 

Pelagius now disappears. He probably died before 420. A 
new and able champion of his opinions now appeared in the 
person of Bishop Julian of Eclanum, in southern Italy. An 
edict of the Emperor Honorius, in 419, required the bishops of 
the West to subscribe a condenmation of Pelagius and Ccelestius. 
Julian and eighteen others in Italy refused. Several of them 
were driven into exile and sought refuge in the East. In Julian, 
Augustine found an able opponent, and Pelagianism its chief 
systematizer; but a defender who was much more of a ration- 
alist than Pelagius. About 429 Julian and Ccelestius found 
some support from Nestorius in Constantinople, though Nes- 
torius was not a Pelagian. This favor worked to Nestorius's 
disadvantage in his own troubles, and together with the wish 




of the Pope led to the condemnation of Pelagianism by the 
so-called Third General Council in Ephesus in 431 {arde, p. 
148). Pelagianism, thus officially rejected in the West and the 
East, nevertheless lived on in less extreme forms, and has al- 
ways represented a tendency in the thinking of the church. 


Augustine's fame as the great teacher of the Western Chiu*eh 
was secure even before his death in 430. By no means all ac- 
cepted, however, the more peculiar portions of his theology, 
even where Pelagianism was definitely rejected. Thus, Jerome 
ascribed to the human will a share in conversion, and had no 
thought of an irresistible divine grace, though deeming grace 
essential to salvation. Northern Africa, which had led the 
Western Church intellectually since the time of Tertullian, was 
now devastated by the Vandals. Its pre-emmence in' leader- 
ship now passed to southern France, and it was there that the 
chief controversy over Augustinian principles arose. John 
^Cassianu s, probably from Gaul, but who had jomneyed tolhe 
East, visited Egypt, and had served as deacon under Chrys- 
ostom, bounded a monastery and a nunnery in Marseilles about 
415, ancMlied there about 435. Not far from 429 he wrote his 
Collation^, in the form of conversations with Egyptian monks. 
InJii£L opinion "the wMjlway s remains fre e in man, and it 
can either neglect oFdelight in tiie grace. of (jod.^^ 

In 434 Vince nt, a ggnk of Lferin s, wrote a Cominjcmitorium, 
in which, without attacking Augustine by name, his design 
was to do so really, by representing Augustine's teachings on 
grace and predestination as novelties without support in 
Catholic tradition. "Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself 
all possible care should be taken that we hold that faith which 
has been believed everywhere, always and by all."* These 
men and their associates were called in the sixteenth century 
"Semi-Pelagians," though Semi-Augustinians would be more 
correct, since they agreed in most points with Augustine, 
though rejecting his essential doctrines of predestination and 
irresistible grace. These were earnest men who sincerely feared 
that Augustine's doctrines would cut the nerve of all human 

» 12 ; Ayer, p. 469. 

*Quod vbigue, quod semper, quod ab omnibus, 2*; Ayer, p. 471. 


effort after righteousness of life, especially that . righteousness 
as sought in monastieism. Predestination and irresistible grace 
seemed to deny human responsibility. 

This dissent from Augustine appeared in still more positive 
form in the writings of f^ustUSU-Obbpt of lArm a, and afterward 
bishop of Riez. In his treatise on Grace, of about 474, he 
recognized original sin, but Keld that men still ha ve * ^the pos- 
si bility of strivmg f nr fy^lvfttip".^^ Grace is the divine promise 
and warning which inclines ihe weakened but still free will to 
choose the right rather thaiL aa. With Augustine, an inward 
transforming power. Godfforesejes wh at men w ill do with th e 
invit ations of the Gosp eiS- ite^^^oesi not predestinate them > 
Though J^^austus rejected Pelagius, he really stood closer to 
him tiban to Augustine. 

A more Augustinian direction was given to the thought of 
southern Prance by the. able and devoted Csesarius (469?-542), 
for a time a monk of L6rins, and from 502 onward bishop of 
Aries. I n 529 he held a littie sy no d in Orang e, the canons of 
which received a much larger signmcance because approved 
by P ope Bonifa ^ TT (P^^^^^^) Thpy pra/^i VAllv ended the 
Semi-Pelagian controv er sy, though Semi-Pelagian p ositions 
t ave alwi^s largely beenmaintained jh the church, ^ It was 
athrmed by this synod that man is n6t only under original sin, 
but has lost all power to turn to ^od, so that '^it is brought 
about by the infusion, of the Holy Spirit and His operation in 
us that we wish to be set free.*' It is "by the free g&t of grace, 
that is, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit,'* that we have 
"the desire of believmg" and "come to the birth of holy bap- 
tism." All good in Ti(ian l a the wor k of God. , Thus many of 
the main thoughts of Augustine were approved; but with a 
decided weakening of emphasis. The irresistibi lity of grace 
ifl nnwherft ftfflmn<^^ On the contrary, those in elffor ftlfe said 
to "resist that same Holy Spirit." Predestination to evil is 
condenmed. But, most marked of a ll, the re ce ption of pr ace 
is so bound to baptism that the sacntmentri q uality of gra ce 
and th e merit of g ood^orks are.put in the foreiproun d, "We 
also believe this to be according to the Catholic faith, that grace 
having been received in baptism, all who have been baptized, 
can and ought, by the aid and support of Christ, to perform 
those things which belong to the salvation of the soul, if they 

» Ayer, pp. 472-476. 



labor faithfully."^ Augustinianism was approved, but with 
undoubted modification in the direction of popular 'Catholic" 
religious conceptions. Its sharp points were blunted. 


The tendencies toward a blunted, ecclesiastically and sacra- 
mentally emphasized presentation of Augustinianism, which 
have already been noted, characterized the thinking of Gregory 
the Great, the interpreter 'of Augustine to the Middle Ages. 
A teacher of little originality, he presented the theological sys- 
tem already developed in the West, in essential harmony with 
the popular Christianity of his age. His influence was thus 
far-reaching. He is reckoned witih Ambrose, Augustine, and 
Jerome one of the Doctors of the Latin Church. In adminis- 
trative abilities and achievements Gregory was one of the great- 
est of the Popes, and Latin Christianity generally had in him 
a leader of broad vision and permanent accomplishment. 

Gregory was bom in Rome of a senatorial Christian family 
about 540. Before 573 he was made prefect, or governor, of 
the city by the Emperor Justin II. The monastic life attracted 
him from civil distinctions, and by 574 he had devoted hb 
wealth to the founding of monasteries and to the poor, and 
become a member of the monastery of St. Andrew in what 
had formerly been his own home on the Cselian hill. Gregory 
always retained his interest in monasticism, and did much for 
the regulation and eictension of the monastic life. His own 
temperament was too active for the cloister, and in 579 Pope 
Pelagius II (579-590) sent him as papal ambassador to the 
court of Constantinople, where he served with ability, though, 
curiously, without acquiring a knowledge of Greek. About 
586 he was once more in Rome as the abbot of St. Andrew. 
In 590 he was chosen Pope, being the first monk to attain that 
office. He died on March 12, 604. 

The time of Gregory's papacy was propitious for an able 
Pope. The papacy, which had risen high under Innocent I 
(402-417) and Leo I (440-461), had sunk m power after Jus- 
tinian had conquered the Ostrogoths and restored the imperial 
authority in Italy. Since 568, however, the control of the 
Emperors in Italy had more and more waned before the Lom- 

* Ayer, p. 476. 



bards> who threatened Rome itself. Though nominally sub- 
ject to the Emperor, Gregory was the real leader against Lom- 
bard aggression. He raGed troops, defended Rome by force 
and by tribute, even made a peace with the Lombards on his 
own authority, and succeeded, after infinite effort and con- 
fused struggles both with the Lombards and the imperial rep- 
resentatives, in keeping Rome unconquered throughout lus 
pontificate. He was the strongest man in Italy, and must 
have seemed to the Romans and to the Lombards alike far 
more a real sovere^ than the distant and feeble Emperor. 

The support of the papacy as well as the source of much of 
the food of Rome was in its large estates, the Patrimony of 
Peter, in Sicily, Italy, and even in southern France and north- 
em Africa. Of these Gregory showed himself an energetic but 
kindly landlord. Their management took much of his atten- 
tion. Their revenues increased, and Gregory employed this 
income lib^ally not only in the maintenance of the clergy and 
public worship, and in the defense of Rome, but in charitable 
foundations and good works of all kinds. 

Gregory was convinced that ''to all who know the Gospel 
it is apparent that by the Lord's voice the care of the whole 
church was conunitted to the holy Apostle and prince of all 
the Apostles, Peter." ^ He would exercise a jiurisdiction over 
the church as Peter's successor. As such, he protested against 
certain acts of ecclesiastical discipline inflicted by the patriarch 
of Constantinople, John the Faster; and announced that he 
would receive an appeal. In the acts sent for his inspection 
Gregory found John described as "universal bishop." Against 
this claim for Constantinople he raised vigorous protest.^ His 
own practice was the employment of the title still borne by the 
Roman bishops, ''servant of the servants of God." He exer- 
cised judicial authority with greater or less success in the 
affairs of the churches of Ravenna and Illyria. He attempted 
to interfere in the almost independent life of the church of 
France, re-estaUishing the papal vicariate in Aries, in 595, 
coming into friendly relations with the Prankish court, and at- 
tonpting to remove abuses in French ecclesiastical adminis- 
tration.' Here his success was small. With some good for- 
tune he asserted the papal authority in Spain, where the 
Visigothic sovereign, Recared, had r^ounced Arianism in 587. 

1 lAUtfi, 6» > Ayer, pp. 592-IM. * Ibid,, pp. 591-602. 


Even more significant for the future was Gregory's far-reacb- 
ing missionary campaign for the conversion of England, in- 
augurated in 596, of which some account will be given (p. 198). 
It not only advanced markedly the cause of Christianity, but 
was the initiation of a closer relationship of England, and 
ultimately of Germany, with the papacy than had yet been 
achieved elsewhere. Nearer home, among the Arian Lom- 
bards^ Gregory inaugurated ultimately successful efforts, to 
tiun them to the Cadiolic faith, especially through the aid of 
Theodelinda, who was successively the Queen of Kings Authari 
(684-591) and Agilulf (592-615). 

Tradition has ascribed to Gregory a great work in the refor- 
mation of church music — ^the "Gregorian chants" — and in the 
development of the Roman liturgy; but the absence of con- 
temporary reference makes it probable that his services in both 
these respects were relatively inconspidous. On the other 
handy his abilities as a preacher were undoubted. As a writer 
three of his works maintained high popularity throughout the 
Middle Ages — ^his exposition of Job, or Moralia, his treatise on 
the character and duties of the pastoral office, the Regula Pas- 
toralisy and his credulous Dialogues on the L^e and Miracles qf 
the Italian Fathers. 

Gregory's theology is Augustinian, but with another em- 
phasis than that of Augustine. He developed all of Augus- 
tine's ecclesiastical tendencies, and that mass of material from 
popular Christianity which Augustine took up into his ^stem. 
Miracles, angels, and the devil have an even greater part in 
Gregory's system than in that of Augustine. While (jregory 
held that the number of the elect is fixed, and depends upon 
God, he had no such interest in predestination as had Augus- 
tine. He often speaks as if predestination is simply divine 
foreknowledge. His interests were practical. Man is fettered 
in original sin, the evidence of which is his birth through lust. 
From this condition he is rescued by the work of Chnst, re- 
ceived in baptism ; but sins committed after baptism must be 
satisfied. Works of merit wrought by God's assisting grace 
make satisfaction. "The good that we do is both of (jod and 
of ourselves ; of (rod by prevenient grace, our own by good will 
following." ^ Penance is the proper reparation for sins after 
baptism. It involves recognition of the evil of the sin, con- 

^ Maralia, 33» 


trition, and satisfaction. The church has many helps for him 
who would seek merit or exercise penance. Of these the great- 
est is the Lord's Supper, which Gregory viewed as a repetition 
of the sacrifice of Christ, available for the living and the dead. 
There is also the aid of the saints. ''Those who trust in no 
work of their own should run to the protection of the holy 
martyrs." * For those who, while really disciples of Christ, 
make an insufiBcient use of these opportunities to achieve works 
of merit, fail to do penance, or avail themselves inadequately 
of the helps offered in the church, there remain the purifying 
fires of purgatory. 

The thought of purgatory was not new with Gregory. The 
first faint intimation may be found in Hennas of Rome.^ 
With Cyprian it is more evident, and he cites in this connec- 
tion Matt. 5**.' Augustine, on the basis of 1 Cor. 3"*", argued 
that purgatory was not improbable, though he felt no absolute 
certainty regwling it.^ Csesarius of Aries held more definitely 
to the conception. To him it was a fact. Gregory now taught 
purgatory as a matter essential to the faith. '' It b to be be- 
lieved that there is a purgatorial fire before the judgment for 
certain light sins.'' ^ Though the Eastern Chiurch held that an 
intermediate state exists between death and the judgment, 
and souls can be helped therein by prayer and sacrifice, its 
conception of purgatory has always been vague compared with 
that of the West. 

Thus, in all departments of ecclesiastical activity Gregory 
stood forth the most conspicuous leader of his time. In him 
the Western Church of the Middle Ages already exhibited its 
characteristic traits, whether of doctrine, life, worship, or or- 
ganization. Its growth was to be in the directions in which 
Gregory had moved. 

Contemporary with Gregory in part, and of significance as 
the transmitter of much of the theological leaning of the an- 
cient church to the Middle Ages, was Isidore, the head of the 
Spanish church from about 600 to 636, as bishop of Seville. 
His Book of Sentences — ^brief statements of doctrine — ^was to 
be the theological text-book of the Western Church till the 
twelfth centiuy. His Origins or Etymologies embraced well- 
nigh the round of learning of his age, ecdemastical and secular, 

1 Moralia, 16» • Vis,, 3». « Letters, 51-55». 

* Enddridian, 69 ; CUy of God, 21>«. • Dialogue, 43>. 




and was a main source of knowledge in the Middle Ages of the 
thought of antiquity. His value as a historian of the Goths and 
Vandals was great. In him, as the most learned man of his 
age, all the earlier Middle Ages were to find a teacher of little 
originality but of remarkable -breadth of 




The spread of Arianism among the Gennanic tribes, the con- 
version of the Franks to the Roman faith, and the gradual 
acceptance of Catholic orthodoxy by the Gennanic invaders 
have ahready been noted (ante, pp. 129-134). Much, however, 
remained to be done. There is no more striking proof of the 
vitality of the church in the collapsing empire and the opening 
Middle Ages than the vigor and success with which it under- 
took the extension of Christianity. 

Christianity had some foothold in the British Isles before 
the conversion of Constantine. Bishops of York, London, and 
probably Lincoln, were present at the Council of Aries in 314. 
Yet it survived the downfall of the Roman Empire but feebly 
among the Celtic population, while much of the soil of southern 
and eastern England was won for heathenism by the Anglo- 
Saxon invaders. Some slight Christian beginnings were to be 
foimd chiefly in the south of Ireland before the time of Patrick; 
but he so advanced the cause of the Gospel in that island and 
so organized its Christian institutions, that he deserves the 
title of the Apostle of Ireland. 

Bom about 389, possibly in southern Wales, Patrick was the 
son of a deacon and the grandson of a priest. His training was 
therefore Christian. Seized in a raid about 405, he was for six 
years a slave in Ireland. Escaped to the Continent, Patrick 
was for a considerable time an inmate of the monastery of 
L&ins, off the southern coast of France. In 432 he was or- 
dained a missionary bishop by Bishop Germanus of Auxerre, 
and began the work in Irdand which ended with his death in 
461. Most of Patrick's missionary labors were in northeastern 
Ireland, though not without some efforts in the south and 
wilder west. Few facts survive; but of hb zeal there can be 
no question, and as little of his conspicuous abilities as an or- 
ganizer under whom the hitherto scattered Christianity of 



Ireland was systematized and made great advance. He 
brought the island in some measure into association with the 
Continent and with Rome. 

It seems certain that Patrick introduced the diocesan epis- 
copate into Ireland; but that institution was soon modified 
by the dan system of the island, so that there were, instead, 
many monastic and tribal bishops. Monasticism was favored 
by Patrick; but the great developer of the peculiar Irish 
monasticism was Finian of Clonard (470?-548), under whose 
leadership a strongly missionary and, for the time, a notably 
learned group of Irish monasteries came into being. The 
monastic schools of Ireland were justly famous in the sixth and 
seventh centuries. l*he glory of this Irish monasticism was it9 
missionary achievement. 

The beginnings of Christianity in Scotland are very obscure. 
Ninian is said to have labored ^ere in the fourth century and 
the early years of the fifth, but of his date and real work little 
can be said. Kentigem, or' Mungo (527 ?-612 ?), who spread 
Christianity in the neighborhood of Glasgow, is almost as dim 
a figure. It would seem probable that the northern Irish 
settlers who founded, about 490, the kingdom of Dalriada, em- 
bracing the modem Argyleshire, came as Christians. The 
great missionary to Scotland was Columba (521-597), a man 
closely related with some of the most powerful tribal families 
of Ireland, and a pupil of Finian of Clonard. Distinguished 
already as a monk and a founder of monasteries in Irdand, he 
transferred his labors, in 563, to Scotland, establishing himself 
with twelve companions on tiie island of lona or Hy, under the 
protection of his fellow countryman and relative, the King of 
Dahriada. There Coliunba developed a most flourishing monas- 
tery, and thence he went forth for missionary labors among the 
Picts, who occupied the northern two-thirds of Scotland. By 
Columba' and his associates the kingdom of the Picts was won 
for the Gospel. As in Ireland, Christian institutions were 
largely monastic. There were no dioceses, and ev^i the 
bisd^ops were under the authority, save in ordination, of Co* 
lumba, who was a presbyter, and of his successors as abbots 
of lona. 

These Irish missionary efforts were carried to northern Eng- 
land, among the Anglo-Saxons of Northumbria. There, on 
the island of Lindisfarne, off the extreme northeastern coast of 


England, a new lona was established by Aidan, a monk from 
lona, in 634. Thence Christianity was widely spread in the 
region by him till his death in 651, and afterward by his 
associates. Nor was the missionary zeal of these Celtic monks 
by any means confined to the British Islands. Colimibanus, 
or Columba the Yomiger (543 ?-615), became a monk of the 
celebrated Irish monastery of Bangor, which was founded in 
558 by Comgall, a leader in learning and missionary zeal. 
From Bangor, Colimxbanus set forth, about. 585, with twelve 
monastic companions, and settled in Anegray, in Burgundy, 
near which he planted the monastery of Luxeuil. Driven 
fo rth abou t 610, in consequence of his prophet-like rebiike'^f 
, J^ing Theiiderich II and tiie King's grandmother^ Brunhilda, 
Tlolumbanus worked ifor a brief time in northern Switzerland, 
where his Irish companion and disciple, Gallus, was to live as 
an anchorite, and to give his name to, rather than to found, the 
later monastery of St. Gall. Columbanus made his way to 
northern Italy, and there established in 614, in the Appenines, 
the monastery of Bobbio, in which he died a year later. 

Columbanus was only one of the earlier of a number of Irish 
monks who labored on the Continent — ^many of them in what 
is now central and southern Germany. Thus, Kilian wrought 
in Wiirzburg and Virgil in Salzbiu'g. One modification of Chris- 
tian practice, of great later importance, was introduced on the 
Continent by these Irish monks, notably by Colmnbanus. 
The entrance of thousands into the chiu'ch when Christianity 
was accepted by the state had largely broken down the old 
public discipline. There had grown up the custom of private 
confession among the monks of East and West. Basil had 
strongly favored it in the East. Nowhere had it^more hearty 
support than among the Irish monks, and by them it was ex- 
tended to the laity, as was indeed the case, to some extent, by 
the monks of the East. The Irish on the Continent were the 
introducers of private lay confession. In Ireland, also, grew 
up the first extensive penitential books, in which appropriate 
satisfactions were asse^ed for specific sins — ^though these books 
had their antecedents in earlier canons of councils. These 
penitential treatises the Irish monks made familiar on the Con- 

Meanwhile, a work of the utmost significance for the religious 
history of Britain and the papacy had been undertaken by 


Pope Gr^ory the Great. Moved by a missionary impulse 
wluch he had long felt, and taking advantage of the favorable 
situation afforded by the marriage of iEthelberht, "'King" 
of Kent and overlord of much of southeastern England, to a 
Frankish Christian princess, Berhta, Gregory sent a Roman 
friend, Augustine, the prior of his beloved monastery on the 
Cselian hill, with a number of monastic companions, to at- 
tempt the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons. The expedition left 
Rome in 596, but its courage was small, and all the persuasive 
power of Gregory was required to induce it to proceed. It was 
not till the spring of 597 that the party, reinforced by Frank- 
ish assistants, reached Canterbury. iEthelberht and many 
of his followers soon accepted Christianity. Gregory looked 
upon the struggle as already won. Augustine received epis- 
copal consecration from Vergilius of Aries in November, 597, 
and, by 601, Gr^ory appointed Augustine metropolitan with 
authority to establish twelve bishops under his jurisdiction. 
When northern England should be converted a similar metro- 
politanate wa^ to be established in York. London and York 
were to be the ecclesiastical capitals. The British bishops, 
over whom Gregory had no recognized jurisdiction, the Pope 
conmiitted to the superintendency of Augustine.^ The task 
in reality was to prove much more arduous than it seemed to 
Gregory's sanguine vision, and the greater part of a century 
was to pas^ before Christianity was to be dominant in Eng- 
land. Yet the movement, thus inaugurated, was vastly to 
strengthen the papapy. The Anglo-Saxons owed their conver- 
sion chiefly to the direct efforts of Rome, and they in turn 
displayed a devotion to the papacy not characteristic of the 
older lands, like France and Spain, where Christianity had been 
otherwise introduced. Anglo-Saxon Christianity was to pro- 
duce, moreover, some of the most energetic of missionaries 
by whom the Grospel and papal obedience were alike to be 
advanced on the Continent. 

England was not brought to the acceptance of Christianity 
without much vicissitude. The hegemony of Kent was wan- 
ing before the death of iEthelberht, and with it the first Chris- 
tian triumphs were eclipsed. Northiunbria gradually gained 
leadership. It was a success when Edwin, IGng of North- 

^ Gee wd Hardy, DocumenU lUuOratm of Bngliah Chwrch HiHory, pp. 


umbria, was converted through the work of Paulinus, soon to 
be bishop of York, in 627. The heathen King, Penda of Mercia, 
however, defeated and slew Edwin in 633, and a heathen re- 
action followed in Northumbria. Under King Oswald, who 
had becon^e a Christian when an exile in lona, Christianity 
was re-established in Northumbria, chiefly through the aid of 
Aidan (anto, p. 197). It was of the Irish, or as it is often called, 
the ''Old British '' type. Penda once more attacked, and in 
642 Oswald was killed in battle. Oswald's brother, Oswy, like 
him a convert of lona, after much struggle secured all of North- 
umbria by 651, and a widely recognized overlordship besides. 
English Christianity was becoming firmly established. 

IVom the first coming of the Roman missionaries there had 
been controversy between them and their Irish or Old British 
fellow Christians. The points of difference seem of minor 
importance. An older system of reckoning, discarded in Rome, 
resulted in diversity as to the date of Easter. The forms of 
tonsure were unlike. Some variations, not now recoverable, 
existed in the administration of baptism. Furthermore, as 
has been pointed out, Roman Christianity was firmly organized 
and diocesan, while that of the Old British Church was monastic 
and tribal. While the Old British missionaries looked upon 
the Pope as the highest dignitary in Christendom, the Roman 
representatives ascribed to him a judicial authority which the 
Old British did not fully admit. Southern Ireland accepted the 
Roman authority about 630. In England the decision came 
at a synod held under King Oswy at Whitby in 664. There 
Bishop Cohnan of Lindisfame defended the Old British 
usages, while Wilfrid, once of Lindisfame, but won for Rome on 
a pflgrimage, and soon to be bishop of York, opposed. The 
Roman custom regarding Easter was approved, and with it the 
Roman cause in England won the day. By 703 northern Ire- 
land had followed ^e same path, and by 718, Scotland. In 
Wales the process of acconmiodation was much slower, and was 
not completed till the twelfth century. In England this 
strengthening of the Roman connection was much furthered by 
the appointment, in 668, by Pope Vitalian, of a Roman monk, 
Theodore, a native of Tarsus in CUicia, as archbishop of Canter- 
bury. An organizer of ability, he did much to make permanent 
the work begun by his predecessors. 

The two streams of missionary effort combined to the advan** 


tage of English Christianity. If that from Rome contributed 
order, the Old British gave missionary zeal and love of learning. 
The scholarship of the Irish monasteries was transplanted to 
England, and was there strengthened by frequent Anglo- 
Saxon pilgrimages to Rome. Of this intellectual movement a 
conspicuous illustration was Bede, generally called the '^ Vener- 
able*' (672?-735). An almost me-long member of the joint 
monastery of Wearmouth and Jarrow in Northumbria, his learn- 
ing, like that of Isidore of Seville, a centiu'y earlier, embraced 
the full round of knowledge of his age, and made him a teacher 
of generations to come. He wrote on chronology, natural phe- 
nomena, the Scriptures, and theology. Above all, he is remem- 
bered for his Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, a 
work of great merit and the chief source of information regard- 
ing the Christianization of the British Islands. 


With the conversion of Clovis to orthodox Christianity 
(496) (ante, p. 133), a dose relationship of church and state be- 
gan in the Prankish dominions. To a large extent it was true 
^at Prankish conquest and Christianization were two sides 
of the same shield. Under the descendants of Clovis — ^the 
Merovingian Kings — the internal condition of the Prankish 
church sank, however, to a low ebb. Bishops and abbots were 
appointed for political considerations, much church land was 
confiscated or put in secular hands. Even the efforts of Gr^ 
ory I to gain more effective papal control in Prance and to 
effect reform had little lasting result. 

The political collapse of the Merovingians, led to the rise to 
power of the Carolingian house, originally ''mayors of the pal- 
ace," which was accomplished when Pippin, called, not wholly 
correctly, of Heristal, won the battle of Tertry in 687. The 
Merovingian Kings continued in name, but the real authority 
was exercised by Pippin as "duke of tJie Pranks." After his 
death in 714, his illegitimate son Charles Martel (715-741) ex- 
ercised all the powers of a King. By him the Mohammedan 
advance in western Europe was permanently stayed, by the 
great battle between Tours and Poitiers in 732. He saw the 
advantage of churchly aid, and supported missionary effort in 
western Germany and the Netherlands, where he wished to ex- 


tend his political control. Yet neither Pippin "of Heristal" 
nor Charles Martel were more helpful to the church of their 
own territories than the Merovingians. Iliey exploited it for 
political reasons, confiscated its lands, and did little to check 
its disorders. Nevertheless, under Charles Martel a great mis- 
sionary and reformatory work was initiated that was to Chris- 
tianize large sections of western Germany, reform the Frankish 
church, and bring the papacy and the Franks into relations of 
the utmost consequence to both. 

Willibrord (657?-739), a Northumbrian, began missionary 
work in Frisia with the support of Pippin of Heristal, and, in 
695, was consecrated a missionary bishop by Pope Sergius I — 
an action which resulted in the establishment of the see of 
Utrecht. His work had scanty success, and was taken up by 
one of the ablest and most remarkable men of the period — 
Winfrid or Boniface (680?-754). An Anglo-Saxon of Devon- 
shire by birth, Winfrid became a monk of Nutcell near Win- 
chester. In 716, he began missionary labors in Frisia, but 
with such ill success that he returned to England. In 718 and 
719, he was in Rome, where he received from Pope Gregory II 
(715-731) appointment to labor in Germany. From 719 to 
722, he worked in Frisia and Hesse, going once more to Rome 
in the year last named, and receiving consecration as a mis- 
sionary bishop, swearing allegiance to the Pope.^ The next ten 
years witnessed a great success in Hesse and Thuringia. Not 
only were heathen converted, but the Irish monks were brought 
largely into obedience to Rome. Gregory III (731-741) made 
Boniface an archbishop in 732, with autiiority to found new sees. 
After a third journey to Rome, in 738, he thus organized the 
church of Bavaria, and a little later that of Thuringia. In 
744, he aided his disciple, Sturm, in the foundation of the great 
Benedictine monastery of Fulda, destined to be a centre of 
learning and priestly education for all western-central Ger- 
many. Between 746 and 748, Boniface was made archbishop 
of Mainz, which thus became the leading German see. In all 
this Boniface strengthened the causes of order and discipline 
and increased papal authority. His work was greatly aided 
by the considerable numbers of men and women who came as 
fellow workers from his native England, and for whom he 
found place in monastic and other Christian service. 

^ Robinson, Readings in European Hi9tory, 1 : 105-111. 


The death of Charles Martel in 741 saw his authority divided 
between his sons Carloman (741-747), and Pippin tiie Short 
(741-768). Both were far more churchly than their father, 
and Carloman ultimately retired from power to become a 
monk. While neither would abandon authority over the 
Frankish church, both supported Boniface in the abolition of 
its worst irregularities and abuses, and in a closer connec- 
, tion with Rome. In a series of sjrnods held under Boniface's 
leadership, beginning in 742, the worldliness of the clergy was 
attacked, wandering bishops censured, priestly marriage con- 
demned, and stricter clerical discipline enforced. At a synod 
held in 747 the bishops assembled recognized the jurisdiction 
of the papacy, though, as the dvil rulers were not present, 
these conclusions lacked the force of Frankish law. The Frank- 
ish church, thanks to the work of Boniface, was vastly bettered 
in organization, character, and discipline, while, what was 
equally valued by him, the authority of the papacy therein 
was veiy decidedly increased, even though that of the mayor 
of the palace continued the more potent. 

As Boldface drew toward old age his thoughts turned toward 
the mission work in Frisia, with which he had begun. He se- 
cured the appointment of his Anglo-Saxon disciple, Lull, as 
his successor in the see of Mainz. In 754 he went to Frisia, 
and there was miudered by the heathen, thus crowning hb act- 
ive and widely influential life with a death of witness to his 
faith. His work had been one for order, discipline, and con* 
flolidation, as well as Christian advancement, and these were 
the chief needs of the age. 



It has already been pointed out {anie, p. 162) that the pa^ 
pacy, and Italy generally, opposed the iconoclastic efforts of 
the Emperor Leo III, going so far as to excommunicate the 
opponents of pictures in a Roman synod held under Gregory 
III, in 731. The Emperor answered by removing southern 
Italy and Sicily from papal jurisdiction, and placing these 
regions under the see of Constantinople — ^a matter long a thorn 
in the side of the papacy. In Rome and northern Italy the 
imperial power exercised from Constantinople was too feeble 
to control papal action. The imperial representative was the 


exarch of Rftvennay under whom stood a duke of Rome for 
military affairs, though the Pope was in many respects the 
Emperor's representative in the dvil concerns of the city. 
The papacy was now in practical rebellion against the rulers 
who had their seat in Constantinople. It was, however, in a 
most dangerous position. The Lombards were pressing, and 
were threatening the capture of Rome. The disunion conse- 
quent on the iconoclastic dispute made it necessary, if the 
papacy was to maintwi any considerable independence in 
Rome, to find other protection against the Lombaids than that 
of the Emperor. This the Popes sought, and at last obtained, 
from the Ftunks. 

In 739 Gregoiy III appealed to Charles Martel for aid 
against the Lombards, but in vain. With Pippin the Short it 
was otherwise. He was more ecclesiastically minded, and 
greater plans than even his father had entertained now moved 
him. Pippin and the papacy could be of mutual assistance 
each to the other. The new Lombard King, Aistulf (749-756), J 
conquered Ravenna from the Emperor in 751 and was griev- / 
ously pressing Rome itself. Pippin desired the kingly title as 
well as the kmgly power in France. He had determined upon 
a revolution which should relegate the last of the feeble Mero- 
vingians, Childeric III, to a monastery, and place Pippin him- 
self on the throne. For this change he desired not only the 
approval of the Prankish nobility, but the moral sanction of 
the church. He appealed to Pope Zacharias (741-752). The 
Pope's approval was promptly granted, and before the close 
of 751, Pippin was formally in the kingly office. To this he 
was anointed and crowned, but whether by Boniface, as has 
usually been supposed, is uncertain. 

This transaction, which seems to have been simple at the 
time, was fraught with the most far-reaching consequences. 
From it might be drawn the concluaon that it was within the 
Pope's power to give and withhold kingdoms. All unseen in 
it, were wrapped up the re-establishment of the empire in the 
West, the Holy Roman Empire, and that interplay of papacy 
and empire which forms so. large a part of the history of the 
Middle Ages. From this point of view it was the most impor- 
tant event of mediseval history. 

If the Pope could thus help Pippin, the latter could be no 
less serviceable to the Pope. Aistulf and his Lombards con- 


tinued to press Rome. Stephen II, therefore, went to Pippin 
himself, crowning and anointing Pippin and his sons afre^ in 
the church of St. Denis near Paris, in 754, and confirming to 
them the indefinite title of "Patricians of the Romans" — all the 
more useful, perhaps, because implying a relation to Rome that 
was wholly undefined. It had been borne by the imperial 
exarch in Ravenna. Soon after this crowning, Pippin fulfilled 
hb reciprocal obligation. At the head of a Prankish anny, * 
late in 754, or early in 755, he invaded Italy and compell^ 
Aistulf to agree to surrender to the Pope Ravenna and the other 
recent Lombard conquests. A second campaign, in 756, was 
necessary before the Lombard King made good his promise. 
The Exarchate of which Ravenna was the capital and the 
Pentapolis were now the possessions of the Pope. The "States 
of the Church" were begun — ^that temporal sovereignty of the 
papacy which was to last till 1870. Yet, as far as can now 
be judged, in thus granting the Exarchate to Pope Stephen, 
Pippin regarded himself as overlord. Rome itself, Pippin did 
not give to the Pope. It was not his to give. Legally, the 
status of Rome would have been hard to define. Though the 
Popes had practically broken with the Emperor at Constanti- 
nople, Rome had not been conquered from him. Indeed the 
papacy recognized the sovereignty of the Eaistem Emperor in 
the style of its public documents till 772. Pippin had the 
wholly nebulous rights that might be included in the title 
^'Patrician of the Romans." Actually^ Rome was in the pos- 
session of the Pope. 

Though the Pope was thus now a territorial ruler, the extent 
of his possessions was far from satisfying papal ambition, if 
one may judge by a curious forgery, the authorship 6f which 
is unknown, but which seems to date from this period — ^the 
so-called "Donation of Constantine." ^ In charter form, and 
with an expression of a creed, and a fabulous account of his 
conversion and baptism, Constantine ordered all ecclesiastics 
to be subject to Pope Sylvester and successive occupants of the 
Roman see, and transferred to them "the city of Rome and all 
the provinces, districts, and cities of Italy or of the Western 
regions." This meant a sovereignty over the Western half 
of the empire — at least an overlordship. Discredited by a few 
of the wiser men of the Middle Ages, tiie "Donation" was gen- 

^ Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 319-^329. 


erally believed, till its falsity was demonstrated by Nicholas 
of Cues in 1433 and Lorenzo Valla in 1440. 


Pippin the Short died in 768. A strong ruler, his fame has 
been unduly eclipsed by that of his greater son, who, in general, 
simply carried further what the father had begun. Pippm 
had divided his kingdom between his two sons, Charles and 
Carloman. Ill will existed between the brothers, but the 
situation was relieved by the death of Carloman in 771. With 
that event the real reign of Charles, to whom the world has 
so ascribed the title ''Great" as to weave it indissolubly with 
his name — Charlemagne — ^began. 

Charlemagne, perhaps more than any other soverdgn in 
history, was head over all things to his age. A warrior of great 
gifts, he more than doubled his father^s possessions. When 
he died his sway ruled all of modem France, Belgium, and Hol- 
land, nearly half of modem Germany and Austria-Hungary, 
more than half of Italy, and a bit of northeastern Spain. It was 
nearer imperial size than anything that had been seen since 
the downfall of the Western Roman Empire. Conquest was 
but part of his work. His armies, by extending the frontier, 
gave rest and time for consolidation to the central portion of 
his territories. He was the patron of learning, the kmdly mas- 
ter of the church>.the preserver of order, to whom nothing 
seemed too small for attention or too great for execution. 

A quarrel with Desiderius, King of the Lombards, resulted 
in the conquest and extinction of that kingdom by Charle- ^ 
magne in two campaigns in the years 774 to 777. Pippin's 
grants to the papacy Y^ere renewed, but the situation was 
practically altered. The papacy was no longer separated as. 
it had been from the main Fra^ish territories by the inter- 1 
vening Lombard kingdom. Charlemagne's connection with^' 
Rome was a mUch more effective overlordship than that of his' 
father, and he thenceforth treated the Pope as the chief prel- 
ate of his realm, rather than as an indep)endent power, though - 
he did not go so far as to dictate the choice of the Popes, as he 
did that of the bishops of his kingdom. 

Highly important for the extension of Christianity was*^ 
Charlemagne's conquest of the Saxons, then occupying what 


is now northwestern Germany — a result achieved only after 
a series of campaigns lasting from 772 to 804. His forcible 
imposition of Christianity was made permanent by the more 
peaceful means of planting bishoprics and monasteries through- 
out the Saxon land. By this conversion the last considerable 
Germanic tribe, and one of the most gifted and energetic, was 
brought into the Christian family of Europe to its permanent 
advantage. Frisia, also, now became a wholly Christian land. 
Charlemagne's contests with the rebellious duke, Tassilo, of 
already Christianized Bavaria, led not only to the full absorp- 
tion of the Bavarian bishoprics in the Prankish ecclesiastiod 
system, but to successful wars against the Avars and the ex- 
tension of Christianity into much of what is now Austria. 

Such a ruler, devoted equally to the extension of political 
power and of Christianity, and controlling the greater part of 
Western Christendom, was, indeed, a figure of imperial pro- 
portions. It is not surprising, therefore, that Pope Leo III 
(795-816), who was greatly indebted to Charlemagne for pro- 
tection from disaffected Roman nobles, placed on the head of 
the Prankish King the Roman imperial crown as the latter 
knelt in St. Peter's Church on Christmas day, 800. To the 

' thinking of the Roman populace who applauded, as to the West 
generally, it was the restoration of the empire to the West, 
that had for centuries been held by the ruler in Constan- 

* tinople. It placed Charlemagne in t^e great succession from 
Augustus. It gave a theocratic stamp to that empire. Un- 
expected, and not wholly welcome at the time to Charlemagne, 
it was the visible embodiment of a great ideal. The Roman 
Empire, men thought, had never died, and now God's consecra- 
tion had been given to a Western Emperor by the hands of 
His representative. It was not, necessarily, a rejection of the 
imperial title of the ruler in Constantinople. The later empire 
had frequently seen two Emperors, East and West. Leo V 
(813-820), the Emperor in Constantinople, later, formally 
recognized the imp)erial title of his Western colleague. For 
the West and for the papacy the coronation was of the utmost 
consequence. It raised questions of imperial power and of 
papal authority that were to be controverted throughout the 
Middle Ages. It emphasized the feeling that church and 
state were but two sides of the same shield, the one leading 
man to temporal happiness, the other to eternal blessedness. 



I in 

3 a 



and both closely related and owing mutual helpfulness. It 
made more evident than ever the deep-seated religious and 
political cleavage between East and West. To the great Em- 
peroT himself it seemed the fulfilment of the dream of Augus- 
tine's City qf God {ante, p. 184) — ^the union of Christendom in 
a kingdom of God, of which he was the earthly head. His 
power was never greater than when he died, in 814. 

At Charlemagne's accession no schools were so flourishing 
in Western Europe as those to be found in connection with the 
monasteries of the British Islands. It was from England that 
this many-sided monarch procured his chief intellectual and 
literary assistant. Alcuin (7357-804) was probably a native, 
and certainly a student of York. From 781 to his death, with 
some interruptions, he was Charlemagne's main aid in a real 
renaissance of classical and Biblical learning, that rendered the 
reign bright compared with the years before, and raised the in- 
tellectual life of the Frankish state. Charlemagne himself, 
though without becoming much of a scholar, set the example 
as an occasional pupil in this ''school of the palace." In 796 
Charlemagne made Alcuin the head of the monastery of St. 
Martin in Tours, which now became under his leadership a 
centre of learning for the whole Frankish realm. Others 
helped in this intdlectual revival, like the Lombard, Paul the 
Deacon (720?-795), the Frank, Einhard (770?-840), or the 
Visigoth, Theodulf (760?-821). The mere mention of these 
various national relationships shows the care which Charle- 
magne exhibited to secure from any portion of Western Europe 
those who could raise the intellectual standards of his empire. 

With this growth of learning came theological discussion. 
The Spanish bishops, Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgel, 
taught an adoptionist Christology — that Christ, though in His 
divine nature the Son of God, was in His human natiue only a 
son by adoption. Under Charlemagne's leadership these opin- 
ions were cond^nned in synods held in Regensburg (792) and 
Frankfort (794). In this work Charlemagne regarded himself 
as the theologic^d guide no less than the protector of the church. 
In similar fashion, at the synod of Frankfort just mentioned, 
Charlemagne had the conclusions of the General Council of 
787, in Niceea (ante, p. 163), condemned, rejected its approval 
of picture reverence, and caused the Libri Carolini, defending 
his position, to be issued. In 809, at a synod in Aachen, Char- 


lemagne approved the Spanish addition filioque (ante, p. 180) 
to the so-called Nicene-Constantinopolitan creed. All these 
acts were in consultation with the bishops and theologians of 
his realm, but with no special deference to the Pope or refer- 
ence of the matters to papal judgment. 


Roman political institutions were based on the cities, onwhich 
the surrounding country was dependent, and Christian organ- 
ization followed the same rule. The country districts were 
dependent upon and were cared for by the city bishops and 
their appointees, save where, in the East, there were "country 
bishops.'' The Germanic invasions altered this situation. 
By the sixth century the beginnings of the parish system were 
to be found in France (ante, p. 166). There it rapidly grew, 
and it was stimulated by the custom of the foundation of 
churches by large landowners. The founders and their heirs 
retained the right of nominating the incumbent. • This situar 
tion left episcopal control uncertain. Charlemagne, there- 
fore, provided that besides the right of ordination of all parish 
priests, the bishop should have vbitorial and disciplinary power 
throughout his diocese. The churchly status was further 
strengthened by the full legal establishment of tithes* Long 
favored by the clergy through Old Testament example, they 
were demanded by a Frankish synod in Macon, in 585. By 
Pippin they were treated as a legal charge, and full l^gal sanc- 
tion was given them by Charlemagne. They were to be col- 
lected not only by bishops, but by and for the use of the incmn- 
bent of each parish. Moreover, constant gifts of lands to the 
chmx^h had raised ecclesiastical possessions, by the time of the 
early Carolingians, to a third of the soil of France. The great 
holdings were a constant temptation in the financial need of a 
Charles Martel, who appropriated much, but under the friendly 
government of Charlemagne they were respected, if earlier 
confiscations were not restored. 

Under Charlemagne, preaching was encouraged and books of 
sermons prepared. Confession was favored, though not yet 
obligatory. Every Christian was expected to be able to rqpeat 
the Lord's Prayer and the Aposties' Creed. 

Charlemagne renewed and extended the metropolitan system. 


which had fallen into abeyance. At the beginning of his reign 
there was but one metropolitan in the Frankish kingdom. At 
its end there were twenty-two. These were now generally 
known as archbishops— a title which goes back to the time of 
Athanasius, though long loosely used. In Carolingian theory 
the archbishop was the judge and disciplinary officer of the 
bishops of his province, possessed of powers which the growth 
of papal jurisdiction was soon to curtail. It was also his duty 
to call frequent synods to consider the religious problems of 
the archdiocese, or as it was usually styled, the province. 

For the better regulation of his immediate clerical assistants. 
Bishop Chrod^ang of Metz introduced, about 760, a semi- 
monastic life in common, which was favored and spread by 
Charlemagne. From the designation of this life as the tita 
canonioa, the name '' canons" for the clergy attached to a cathe- 
dral or collegiate church arose. Their place of meeting was 
called the capihdum, or chapter — a title soon applied to the 
canons liiemselves. By this means the life and work of the 
bishop and his immediately associated clergy was largdy 
regulated. Charlemagne himself designated the bishops of 
his realm. 

In all these changes, save that of personal authority over 
episcopal appointments, Charlemagne was but carrying further 
the reforms begun by Boniface. Much that he completed 
his father. Pippin, had commenced. At Charlemagne's deaths 
the Frankish church was in a far better state of education, dis- 
cipline, and efficiency than it had been under the later Mero- 
vingians and early Carolingians. 


Charlemagne's great power was personal. Scarcely had he 
died when the rapid decline of his empire began. His son and 
successor, Louis the Pious (814-^840), was of excellent personal 
character, but wholly unequal to the task left by Charlemagne, 
or even to the control of his own sons, who plotted against him 
and quarrelled with one another. After his death they divided 
the empire betweeA .them by the Treaty of Verdun in 843. To 
Lothair (843-^855) eome Frankish Italy and a strip of territory 
including the valley of the Rhone and the region lying immedi- 
ately west of the Rhine, together with the imperial title. To 





Louis (843-875) was given the region east of the Rhine, whence 
he acquired the nickname, '* the German." To Charles the Bald 
(843-877) came most of modem France and ultimately the im- 
perial crown. This Treaty of Verdun is usually r^arded as the 
point whence France and Germany go their separate ways. 

These rulers proved utterly inadequate for unity or defense. 
France suffered grievously from attacks by the Scandinavian 
Normans, who pushed up its rivers and burned its towns, ulti- 
mately (911) establishing themselves permanently in Nor- 
mandy. Italy was a prey to Saracen raids, in one of which 
(841) St. Peter's itself, in Rome, was plundered. A little later, 
with the beginning of the tenth century, the raids of the Hun- 
garians brought devastation to Grermany and Italy. Under 
these circumstances, when national unity or defense was im- 
possible, feudalism developed with great rapidity. Its roots 
run back to the declining days of the Roman Empire, but with 
the death of Charlemagne it was given great impetus. It was 
intensely divisive, substituting for any strong central govern- 
ment many local seats of authority, jealous one of another and 
engaged in constant struggle. Churches and monasteries be- 
came largely the prey of local nobles, or defended their rights 
with difficulty as parts of the feudal system. This social and 
political form of organization was to dominate Eiux>pe tiU the 
thirteenth century, and largely to make possible the growth of 
the mediaeval papacy. 

The impulse given to learning by Charlemagne did not imme- 
diately die. At the court of Charles the Bald, John Scotus 
(?-877?), to whom the name Erigena was much later added, 
held somewhat the same position that Alcuin had occupied un- 
der Charlemagne. He translated the much admired writings of' 
the Pseudo-Dionysius {ante, p. 171), and developed his own Neo- 
Platonic philosophy, which his age was too ignorant to judge 
heretical or orthodox. In Germany, Hrabanus Maurus (776?- 
856), abbot of Fulda and archbishop of Mainz, a pupil of Alcuin, 
attained a deserved reputation as a teacher, commentator on 
the Scriptures, furtherer of clerical education and author of 
what was well-nigh an encydopsedia. In Hincmar (805?'-882), 
archbishop of Rheims, France possessed not only a prelate of 
great assertiveness and influence, but a theological controversial- 
ist of decided gift. 

The renewed study of Augustine which this intellectual 


revival effected led to two doctrinal controversies. The first 
was r^;arding the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper. 
About 831 Paschasius Radbertus, a monk of the monastery of 
Corbie, near Amiens, of remarkable learning in Greek as well as 
in Latin theology, set forth the first thoroughgoing treatise 
on the Lord's Supper, De corpore et sanguine Domini. In it 
he taught with Augustine, that only those who partake in faith 
receive the virtue of the sacrament, and with the Greeks, that 
it is the food of immortality; and also, that by divine miracle 
the substance is made the very body and blood of Christ. That 
was transubstantiation, though the word was not to be coined 
before the twelfth century. To Radbertus, Hrabanus Maurus 
replied; but a more elaborate answer was that of a fellow 
monk of Corbie, Ratramnus, about 844. Yet his view agreed 
in much with that of Radbertus. The body and blood of 
Christ are mysteriously present; yet they are not identical with 
the body that suffered on the cross. The controversy was not 
decided at the time, but the future, in the Roman Church, was 
with Radbertus. 

The second controversy was aroused by Gottschalk (808?- 
868?}. A monk of Fulda, made so by parental dedication, his 
efforts for release from his bonds were frustrated by Hrabanus 
Maurus. He then turned to the study of Augustine, and his 
hard fate, perhaps, led him to emphaaoze a double divine pre- 
destination — ^to life or to death. He was attacked by Hrabanus 
Maurus and Hincmar, but found vigorous defenders. Con- 
denmed as a heretic at a synod in Mainz in 848, he spent the 
next twenty years in monastic imprisonment, persecuted by 
Hincmar, and refusing to retract. The controversy was a 
fresh flaring up of the old dispute between thoroughgoing 
Angustinianism and the semi-Pelagianism which was the actual 
theory of a large portion of the church. 

As the collapse of Charlemagne's empire grew more complete, 
however, these controversies and the intellectual life out oi\ 
which th^ sprang faded. By 900 a renewed barbarism had ' 
largely extinguished the light which had shone brightly a 
oentuiy before. One great exception to this general condition 
existed. In England, Alfred the Great (871-901?), distin- 
guished as the successful opponent of the Danish conquerors, 
in a spirit like that of Charlemagne gathered learned men about 
him, and encouraged the education of the clergy. 


The collapsing empire of Charlemagne led to the rise of a 
\churchly party in Prance, which despairing of help from the 
state, looked toward the papacy as the source of miity and hope. 
This party regarded with suspicion also any control of the 
church by the sovereigns or nobility, and it represented the 
jealousy of the ordinary bishops and lower clergy toward the 
great archbishops with their often arbitrary assertions of au- 
thority, of whom Hincmar was a conspicuous example. The 
aim of the movement was not the exaltation of the papacy for 
its own sake; rather its exaltation as a means of checking sec- 
ular control and that of the archbishops, and of maintaining 
ecclesiastical unity. From this circle, between 847 and 852, 
and probably from Hincmar's own region of Rheims, came one 
of the most remarkable of forgeries — ^the so-called Pseudo- 
Isidorian Decretals — ^piuporting to be collected by a certain 
Isidore Mercator, by whom Isidore of Seville (ante, p. 193) and 
Marius Mercator were doubtless intended. It consisted of 
decisions of Popes and councils from Clement of Rome in the 
. first century to Gregory II in the eighth, part genuine and part 
forged. The '^ Donation of Constantine'' (ante, p. 204) is 
included. The early Popes therein daim for themselves su- 
preme jurisdiction. All bishops may appeal directly to papal 
authority. Intervening archiepiscopal rights are limited, and 
neither papapy nor bishops are subject to secular control. Wiih 
its origin die papacy had nothing to do; but it was to be used 
mightUy to the furtherance ol papal claims. The age was un- 
critical. It passed inmiediately as genuine, and was not ex- 
posed till the Reformation had awakened historical study. 

With the decline of imperial power, the independence of the 
•' papacy rapidly rose. The Popes showed themselves the strong- 
est men in Italy. Leo IV (847-855), aided by south Italian 
cities, defeated the Saracens and surroimded the quarter of 
St. Peter's in Rome with a wall — the "Leonine City." In 
Nicholas I (858-867) the Roman see had its ablest and most 
assertive occupant between Gregory the Great and Hildebrand. 
He sketched out a progranune of papal claims, hardly surpassed 
later, but which the papa(*y was to be centuries in achieving. 
\ Nicholas attempted to realize the ideals of Augustine's City cf 
' God.^In his thought, the church is superior to all eardily 
powers, the ruler of the whole church is the Pope, and the bish- 
ops are his agents. ^ These conceptions he was able to nuike 


effective in two notable cases, in which he had also the advan- 
tage of choosing the side on which right lay. The first was 
that of Thietberga, the injured wife of Lothair II of Lorraine. 
Divorced that that sovereign might marry his concubine, Wal- 
drada, she appealed to Nicholas, who dc^ared void the sanc- 
tioning decision of a synod held in Metz, in 863, and excom- 
municated the archbishops of Trier and Cologne who had 
supported Lothair. The Pope had defended helpless woman- 
hood, he none the less humbled two of the most powerful 
Grerman prelates and thwarted a German ruler. In the second 
case, Nicholas received the appeal of the deposed Bishop 
Rothad of Soissons, who had been removed by the overbearing 
Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, and forced his restoration. 
Here Nicholas appeared as the protector of the bishops against 
their metropolitans and the ddPender of their right to appeal 
to the Pope as the final judge. In this quarrel the Pseudo- 
Isidorian Decretals were first employed in Rome. 

In a third case, Nicholas, though having right on his side, 
was less successful. The Emperor in Constantinople, Michael 
III, "the Drunkard,^' was ruled by his uncle, Bardas, a man of 
unsavory reputation. The patriarch, Ignatius, refused Bardas 
the sacrament, and was deposed. In his place, Bardas pro- 
duced the appointment of one of the most learned men of 
the later Greek world, Photius (patriarch 858-867, 878-S86), 
then a layman. Ignatius, thus injured, appealed to Nicholas, 
who sent legates to Constantinople. They joined in approval 
of Photius. The Pope repudiate their action, and, in 863, de- 
dared Photius deposed. Photius now accused the Western 
Church of heresy for admitting ihefilioque clause to the creed, 
fasting on Saturdays, using milk, butter, and cheese in Lent, 
demanding priestly celibacy, and confining confirmation to the 
bishops. At a synod under his leadership in Constantinople, 
in 867, the Pope was condenmed. Nicholas failed in his 
attempt to exercise his authority over the Eastern Church. 
The ill feeling between East and West was but augmented, 
which was to lead, in 1054, to the complete separation of the 

During this period following the death of Charlemagne im- 
portant missionary efforts were begun. Ansgar (801?-865), 
a monk of Corbie, entered Denmark in 826, but was driven out 
the next year. In 829 and 830 he labored in Sweden. In 831 


he was appointed archbishop of the newly constituted see of 
Hamburg, with prospective missionary jurisdiction over Den- 
mark, Norway, and Sweden. The destruction of Hambui^ 
by the Danes, in 845, resulted in Ansgar's removal to Bremen, 
which was united ecclesiastically with Hamburg. Ansgar's 
efforts were backed by no Frankish military force, and his pa- 
tient labors accomplished little. The full Christianization of 
^ Scandinavia was yet in the future. 

Larger success attended missions in the East. The Bulgars, 
originally a Turanian people, from eastern Russia, had con- 
quered a large territory in the Balkan r^on in the seventh 
century, and, in turn, had adopted the manners and speech 
of their Slavic subjects. Under their King, Boris (852-n884), 
Christianity was introduced, Boris being baptized in 864. For 
some time undecided between Constantinople and Rome, Boris 
finally chose spiritual alliance to the former, since the par 
tiiarch of Constantinople was willing to recognize a self- 
governing Bulgarian church. This adbesion was of immense 
consequence in determining the future growth of the Greek 
Church in Eastern Europe. The most celebrated missionaries 
among the Slavs were, however, the brothers Cyril ( ?-n869) and 
Methodius (7-885). Natives of Thessalonica, they had at- 
, tained high position in the Eastern empire. On the request of 
i Rostislav, duke of Moravia, the Eastern Emperor, Miduiel III, 
' sent the brothers thither in 864. There they labored with great 
success. A struggle of several years between the papa<y and 
Constantinople for possession of this new-won territory resulted 
in the ultimate victory of Rome. The use of a Slavic liturgy 
was pennitted by Pope John VIII (872-882), though soon with- 
drawn, but from this source its worship came ultimately to the 
Russian church. Frcmi Moravia, Christianity in its Roman 
form came to Bohemia about the dose of the ninth century. 



It may seem strange that the papacy which showed such 
power under Nicholas I should within twenty-five years of his 
death have fallen into its lowest degradation. The e^lanation 
is the growing anarchy of the times. Up to a certain point 
^he collapse of the empire aided the devdopment of papal 


authority; that passed, the papacy became the sport of the 
Italian nobles and ultimately of whatever faction was in con- 
trol of Rome, since the Pope was chosen by the clergy and 
I>eople of the city. The papacy could now appeal for aid to no 
strong outside political power as Zacharias had to Pippin agamst 
the Lombards. 

At the close of the ninth century the papacy was involved 
in the quarrels for the possession of Italy. Stephen V (885- ^ 
891) was overborne by Guido, duke of Spoleto, and compelled 
to grant him the empty imperial title. Formosus (891-896) 
was similarly dependent, and crowned Guido's son, Lambert, 
Emperor in 892. From this situation Formosus sought relief 
in 893 by calling in the aid of Amulf , whom the Grermans had 
chosen King in 887. In 895 Amulf captured Rome, and was 
crowned Emperor by Formosus the next year. A few months 
later Lambert was in turn master of Rome, and his partisan, 
Stephen YI (896-897), had the remains of the lately deceased 
Fonnosus disinterred, condemned in a synod, and treated 
with extreme indignity. A riot, however, thrust Stephen VI 
into prison, where he was strangled. 

Popes now followed one another in rapid succession, as the ; 
various factions controlled Rome. Between the death of' 
Stephen VI (897) and the accession of John XII (955) no less 
than seventeen occupied the papal throne. The controlling' 
influences in the opening years of the tenth century were those 
of the Roman noble 'Dieophylact, and his notorious daugh- 
ters, Marozia and Theodora. The Popes were their creatures. ' 
From 932 to his death in 954 Rome was controlled by Marozia's 
son Alberic, a man of strength, ability, and character, who did 
much for churchly reforms in Rome, but nevertheless secured 
the appointment of his partisans as Popes. On his death he 
was succeeded as temporal ruler of Rome by his son Octavian, 
who had few of the father's rough virtues. Though without 
moral fitness for the office, Octavian secured his own election 
as Pope in 955, choosing as his name in this capacity John XII 
(955-964), being one of the earliest Popes to take a new name 
on election. He altered the whole Roman situation and in- 
troduced a new chapter in the history of the papacy, by calling 
for aid upon the able Grerman sovereign. Otto I, against the 
thceatening power of Berengar II, who had gained control of 
a large part of Italy. 


The line of Charlemagne came to an end in Germany, in 
911, with the death of Louis the Child. With the disintegra- 
tion of the Carolingian empire and the growth of feudalism, 
Grermany threatened to fall into its tribal divisions, Bavaria, 
Swabia, Saxony, Franeonia, and Lorraine. The most power- 
ful men were the tribal dukes. The necessities of defense from 
the Northmen and Himgarians forced a degree of unity, which 
was aided by the jealousy felt by the bishops of the growing 
power of the secular nobility. In 911 the German nobles and 
great clergy, therefore, chose Conrad, duke of Franeonia, as 
King (911-918). He proved inadequate, and in 919 Henry 
the Fowler, duke of Saxony, was elected his successor (919-936). 
His ability was equal to tlie situation. Though having little 
power, save in Saxony, he secured peace from the other dukes, 
j fortified his own territories, drove luEtck the Danes, subdued the 
j Slavs east of the Elbe, and finally, in 933, defeated the Hun- 
garian invaders. The worst perils of Gennany had been re- 
moved, and the foundations of a strong monarchy laid, when 
he was succeeded as King by his even abler son, Otto I (936- 

Otto's first work was the consolidation of his kingdom. He 
made the semi-independent dukes effectively his vassals. In 
this work he used above all the aid of the bishops and great 
abbots. They controlled large territories of Grermany, and by 
fillmg these posts with his adherents, their forces, coupled with 
his own, were sufficient to enable CHto to control any hostile 
combination of lay nobles. He named the bishops and abbots, 
and under him they became, as they were to continue to the 
Napoleonic wars, lay rulers as well as spiritual prelates. The 
peculiar constitution of Grermany thus arose, by which the 
imperial power was based on control of ecdesiasticai appoint- 
ments — ^a situation which was to lead to the investiture strug^e 
with the papacy in the next century. As Otto extended his 
power he founded new bishoprics on the borders of his king- 
dom, partly political and partly missionary in aim, as Bran- 
denburg and Havelberg among the Slavs, and Schleswig, Ripen, 
and Aarhus for the Danes. He also established iixe arch- 
bishopric of Magdeburg. 

Had Otto confined his work to Germany it would have been 
for the advantage of that land, and for the permanent upbuild- 
ing of a strong central monarchy. He was, however, attracted 



by Italy, and established relations there of the utmost historic 
importance, but which were destined to dissipate the strength 
of Germahy for centuries. A first invasion in 951 made him 
master of northern Italy. Rebellion at home (953) and a great 
campaign against the Hungarians (955) interrupted his Italian 
enterprise ; but in 961 he once more invaded Italy, invited by 
Pope John XII, then hard pressed by Berengar U {ante, p. 215). 
On February 2, 962, Otto was crowned in Rome by John XII 
as Emperor — an event which, though in theory continuing the 
succession of the Roman Emperors from Augustus and Charle- 
magne, was the inauguration of the Holy Roman Empire, 
which was to continue in name till 1806. Theoretically, the 
Smperor was the head of secular Christendom, so constituted 
with the approval of the church eicpressed by coronation by 
the papacy. Practically, he was a more or less powerful (jrer- 
man ruler, with Italian possessions, on varying terms with the 

John XII soon tired of Otto's practical control, and plotted 
against him. Otto, of strong religious feeling, to whom such 
a Pope was an offense, doubtless was also moved by a desire 
to strengthen his hold on the German bishops by securing a 
more worthy and compliant head of the church. In 963 Otto 
compelled the Roman people to swear to choose no Pope with- 
out his consent, caused John XII to be deposed, and brought 
about the choice of Leo VIII (963-965). The new Pope stood 
solely by imperial support. On Otto's departure John XII re- 
sumed his papacy, and on John's death the Roman factions 
chose Benedict V. Once more Otto returned, forced Benedict 
into exile, restored Leo VIII, and after Leo's speedy demise, 
caused the choice of John XIII (965-972). Otto had rescued 
the papacy, for the time bein^, from the Roman nobles, but at 
the cost of subserviency to himself. 

Otto's son and successor. Otto II (973-983), pursued substan- 
tially the same policy at home, and regarding the papacy, as 
his father, though with a weaker hand. His son, (Xto III.^ 
(983-l(X)2), went further. The Roman nobles had once more 
controlled the papacy in his minority, but in 996 he entered. 
Rome, put them down, and caused his cousin Bruno to bej 
made Pope as Gregory V (996-999) — ^the first German to hold 
the papal office. After Gregory's decease Otto III placed on 
the papal throne his tutor, Gerbert, archbishop of Rheims, 


as Silvester II (999-1003)— the first French Pope, and the most 
learned man of the age. 

The death of Otto III ended the direct line of Otto I, and the 
throne was secured by Henry U (1002-1024), duke of Bavaria 
and great-grandson of Henry the Fowler. A man filled with 
sincere desire to improve the state of the church, he yet felt him- 
self forced by the difficulties in securing and maintaining his po- 
sition to exerdse strict control over ecdesiastical appointments. 
His hands were too fully tied by German affairs to interfere 
effectually in Rome. There the counts of Tusculum gamed 
control of the papacy, and secured the appointment of B^edict 
VIII (1012-lC^), with whom Henry stood 6n good terms, and 
by whom he was crowned. Henry even persuaded the unspiri- 
tual Benedict VIII at a synod in Pavia in 1022, at which both 
Pope and Emperor were present, to renew the prohibition of 
priestly marriage and favor other measures which the age re- 
garded as reforms. 

With the death of Henry II the direct line was once more 
extinct, and the impejial throne was secured by a Franconian 
count, Conrad II (1024-1039), one of the ablest of German 
rulers, under whom the empire gained great strength. His 
thoughts were political, however, and political considerations 
determined his ecclesiastical appointments. With Rome he 
did not interfere. There the Tusculan party secured the 
papacy for Benedict VIII's brother, John XIX (1024-1032), 
and on his death for his twelve-year-old nephew, Benedict IX 
(1033-1048), both unworthy, and the latter one of the worst 
occupants of the papal throne. An intolerable situation arose 
at Rome, which was ended (see p. 221) by Conrad's able and 
far more religious son, Henry HI, Emperor from 1039 to 1056. 


Charlemagne himself valued monasticism more for its edu^ 
cational and cultural work than for its ascetic ideab. Those 
ideals appealed, however, in Charlemagne's reign to a soldier- 
nobleman of southern France, Witiza, or as he was soon known, 
Benedict (750?-821) called of Aniane, from the monastery 
founded by him in 779. Benedict's aim was to secure every- 
where the full ascetic observation of the ''Rule" of Benedict 
of Nursia (ante, p. 139). The educational or industrial side of 


monasticiain appealed little to him. He would raise monasti- 
cism to greater activity in worship, contemplation, and self- 
denial. Under Louis the Pious Benedict became that £m- 
I>eror's chief monastic adviser, and by imperial order, in 816 
and 817, Benedict of Aniane's interpretation of the elder Bene- 
dict's Rule was made binding on all monasteries of the empire. 
Undoubtedly a very considerable improvement in their condi- 
tion resulted. Most of these benefits were lost, however, in the 
collapse of the empire, in which monastidsm shared in the 
oonunon fall. 

The misery of the times itself had the effect of turning men's 
minds from the world, and of magnifying the ascetic ideal. > 
By the early years of the tenth century a real ascetic revival 
of religion was beginning that was to grow in strength for more 
than two centuries. Its first conspicuous illustration was the 
foundation in 910 by Duke William the Pious, of Aquitaine, 
of the monastery of Cluny, not far from Macon in eastern 
France.^ Cluny was to be free from all episcopal or worldly 
jurisdiction, self-governing, but under the protection of the 
Pope. Its lands were to be secure from all invasion or seculari- 
zation, and its rule that of Benedict, interpreted with great 
ascetic strictness. Cluny was governed by a series of abbots 
of remarkable character and ability. Under the first and 
second of these, Bemo (910-927) and Odo (927-942), it had 
many imitators, through their energetic work. Even the 
mother Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino, in Italy, 
was reformed on Climy lines, and, favored by Alberic, a mon- 
astery, St. Mary on the Aventine hUl, was founded which rep- 
resented Cluny ideas in Rome. By the death of Odo the Cluny 
movement was wide-spread in France and Italy. 

It was no part of the original purpose of Cluny to bring 
other monasteries into dependence on it, or to develop far- 
reaching churchly political plans. Its aim was a monastic 
reformation by example and influence. Yet even at the 
death of the first abbot five or six monasteries were under the 
control of the abbot of Cluny. Under the fifth abbot, Odilor 
(994-1048), however, Cluny became the head of a "congrega-lj 
tion,'' since he brought all monasteries foimded or reformed hyf 
Cluny into dependence on the mother house, their heads being 
appointed by and responsible to the abbot of Cluny himself. 

^ Henderson, Select Historical DocumerUB, pp. 329-333. 


This was new in monasticism, and it made Cluny practically 
an order, under a single head, with ail the strength and influ* 
ence that such a constitution implies. It now came to have 
a force comparable with that of the Dominicans or Jesuits of 
later times. With this growth came an enlargement of the 
reformatory aims of the Cluny movement. An illustration is 
the "Ttuce of God." Though not originated by Cluny, it 
was taken up and greatly furthered by Abbot Odilo from 1040 
onward. Its aim was to limit the constant petty wars between 
nobles by prescribing a closed season in memory of Christ's 
passion, from Wednesday evening till Monday morning, during 
which acts of violence should be visited with severe ecclesias- 
tical punishments. Its purpose was excellent; its success but 

As the Cluny movement grew it won the support of the 
dergy, and became an effort, not for the reform of monastidsm, 
as at first, but for a wide-reaching betterment of clerical life. 
By the first half of the eleventh century the Cluny party, as a 
/ whole, stood in opposition to "Simony"^ and "Nicolaitanism."* 
By the former was imderstood any giving or reception of a 
clerical office for money payment or other sordid consideration. 
By the latter, any br^ush of clerical celibacy, whether by 
marriage or concubinage. These reformers desired a worthy 
y clergy, appointed for spiritual reasons, as the age understood 
worthiness. While many of the Cluny party, and even abbots 
of Cluny itself, had apparently no criticism of royal ecclesias- 
tical appointments, if made from spiritual motives, by the 
middle of the eleventh century a large section was viewing 
any investiture by a layman as simony, and had as its ref onna^ 
tory ideal a papacy strong enough to take from the Kings and 
princes what it deemed their usurped powers of clerical designa- 
tion. This was the section that was to support Hildebrand in 
his great contest. 

Elsewhere than in the Climy movement ascetic reform was 
characteristic of the tenth and eleventh centuries. In Lor^ 
raine and Flanders a monastic revival of large proportions was 
instituted by Gerhard, abbot of Brogne (?-969). In Italy, 
Romuald of Ravenna (950?-1027) organized settlements of 
hermits, called ''deserts," in which the strictest asceticism was 
practised, and from which missionaries and preachers went 

» Ads 8*»-". « Bev. 2«. "• ". 


forth. The most famous '' desert/' which still exists and gave 
its name to the movement, is that of Camaldoii, near Arezzo. 
Even more famous was Peter Damiani (1007?-1072), likewise./ 
of Ravenna, a fiery supporter of monastic reform, and oppo- 
nent of simony and clerical marriage, who was, for a time, 
cardinal bishop of Ostia, and a leadii^ ecclesiastical figure in 
Italy in the advancement of Hildebrandian ideas, preceding 
Hildebrand's papacy. 

It is evident that before the middle of the eleventh century 
a strong movement for churchly reform was making itself ^ 
felt. Henry II had, in large measure, sympathized with it 
(arde, p. 218). Henry III (1039-1066) was even more under 
its influence. Abbot Hugh of Cluny (1049-1109) was a close 
.friend of that Emperor, while the Empress, Agnes, from Aqui- 
taine, had been brought up in heartiest sympathy with the 
Climy party, of which her father had been a devoted adherent. 
Henry III was personally of a religious nature, and though he 
had no hesitation in controlling ecclesiastical appointments 
for political reasons as fully as his father, Conrad II, he would 
take no money for so doing, denounced simony, and appointed 
bishops of high character and reformatory zeal. 

The situation in Rome demanded Henry Ill's interference, 
for it had now become an intolerable scandal. Benedict IX, \ 
placed on the throne by the Tusculan party, had proved so ''' 
imworthy that its rivals, the nobles of the Crescenzio faction, 
were able to drive him out of Rome, in 1044, and install their 
representative as Silvester III in his stead. Benedict, however, 
was soon back in partial possession of the city, and now, tiring 
temporarily of his high office, and probably planning marriage, 
he sold it in 1045 for a price variously stated as one or two thou- 
sand pounds of silver. The purchaser was a Roman archpriest 
of good repute for -piety, John Gratian, who took the name 
Gregory VI. Apparently the purchase was known to few. 
Gregory was welcomed at first by reformers like Peter Damiani. 
The scandal soon became public property. Benedict IX re- 
fused to lay down the papacy, and there were now three Popes 
in Rome, each in possession of one of the principal churches, 
and each denoimdng the other two. Henry III now inter- 
fered. At a synod held by him in Sutri in December, 1046, 
Silvester III was deposed, and Gregory VI compelled to resign 
and banished to Germany. A few days later, a synod in Rome^ 


under imperial supervision, deposed Benedict IX. Henry HI 
immediately nominated and ^e overawed clergy and people 
of the city elected a German, Suidger, bishop of Bambergi as 
Clement II (1046-1047). Henry III had reached the high- 
water mark of imperial control over the papacy. So grateful 
did its rescue from previous degradation appear that the reform 
party did not at first seriously criticise tiiis imperial domina- 
tion ; but it could not long go on without raising the question 
of the independence of the church. The very thoroughness of 
Henry's work soon roused opposition. 

Henry III had repeated occasion to show his control of the 
papal office. Clement II soon died, and Henry caused another 
biidiop of his empire to be placed on the papal throne as Dam- 
asus II. The new P<ype survived but a few months. Henry 
now appointed to the vacant see his cousin Bruno, bishop 
of Toul, a thoroughgoing reformer, in full sympathy with 
Cluny, who now journeyed to Rome as a pilgrim, and after 
merely formal canonical election by the clergy and people of 
the dty — ^for the Emperor's act was determinative — ^took the 
title of Leo IX (1049-1054). 


Leo IX set himself vigorously to the task of reform. His 
most effective* measure was a great alteration wrought in the 
composition of the Pope's immediate advisers — ^the cardinals. 
The name, cardinal, had originally been employed to indicate 
a clergyman permanently attached to an ecclesiastical posi- 
tion. By the time of Gregory I (590-604), its use in Rome was, 
however, becoming technical. From an. uncertain epoch, but 
earlier than. the conversion of Constantine, in each district 
of Rome a particular church was deemed, or designated, the 
most important, originally as the exclusive place for baptisms 
probably. These churches were known as ''title'' churches, 
and their presbyters or head presbyters were the "cardinal" 
or leading priests of Rome. In a similar way, the heads of 
the charity districts into which Rome was divided in the third 
century were known as the "cardinal" or leading deacons. 
At a later period, but certainly by the eighth century, the 
bishops in the immediate vicinity of Rome, the "suburbi- 
carian" or suburban bishops, were called the "cardinal bish- 


ops." This division of the college of cardinals into '^ cardinal 
bishops/' ''cardinal priests/' and ''cardinal deacons'' persists 
to the present day. As the leading clergy of Rome and vicinity, 
they were, long before the name "cardinal" became exclusively 
or even primanly attached to them, the Pope's chief aids and 

On attaining the papapy Leo IX f omid the cardinalate fOUed 
with Romans, and so f Ar as they were representative of the 
noble factions which had long controlled the papacy before 
Henry Hi's intervention, with men unsympathetic with 
reform. Leo IX appointed to several of these high places men 
of reformatory zeal from other parts of Western Christendom. 
He thus largely changed the sympathies of the cardinalate, 
surrounded himself with trusted assistants, and in considerable' 
measure rendered the cardinalate thenceforth representative^ 
of the Western Church as a whole and not simply of the local 
Roman commimity. It was a step of far-reaching consequence.. 
Three of these appointments were of special significance.] 
Humbert, a monk of Lorraine, was made ou^inal bishop, and 
to his death in 1061 was to be a leading opponent of lay inves-| 
titure and a force in papal politics. Hugh the White, a monk 
from the vicinity of Toul, who was to live till after 1098, be- 
came a cardinal priest, was long to be a supporter of reform, 
only to become for the last twenty years of his life the most 
embittered of opponents of Hildebrand and his successors. 
Finally, Hildebrand himself, who had accompanied Leo IX 
from Germany, was made a sub-deacon, charged with the finan- 
cial administration, in some considerable measure, of the Ro- 
man see. Leo IX appointed other men of power and reforma- 
tory zeal to important, if less prominent, posts in Rome and its 
vicinity. _ 

Hildebrand, who now came into association with the car- 
dinalate, is the most remarkable personality in medieval 
papal history. A man of diminutive stature and unimpressive 
appearance, his power of intellect, firmness of will, and limit- 
lessness of design made him the outstanding figure of his age. 
Bom in humble circumstances in Tus6any, not far from Uie 
year 1020, he was educated in the Cluny monastery of St. 
Mary on the Aventine in Rome, and early inspired with the ' 
most radical of reformatory ideals. He accompanied Gregory 
VI to Germany on that unlucky Pope's banishment {fltde^ 


p. 221), and thence returned to Rome with Leo IX. Probably 
he was abeady a monk, but whether he was ever in Cluny it- 
self is doubtful. He was, however, still a young man, and to 
ascribe to him the leading influence under the vigorous Leo IX 
is an error. Leo was rather his teacher. 

Leo IX entered vigorously on the work of reform. He stood 
in cordial relations with its chief leaders, Hugo, abbot of Cluny, 
Peter Damiani, and Frederick of Lorraine. He made exten- 
sive journeys to Germany and France, holding synods and 
enforcing papal authority. At his first Easter synod in Rome, 
in 1049j he condenmed simony and priestly maiTiage in the 
severest terms. A synod held under his presidency in Rheims 
the same year affirmed the principle of canonical election, 
/^no one shall be promoted to ecclesiastical rulership i^^tEbut 
the choice of the dergy and people." By these joum^s and 
assemblies the influence of the papacy was greatly raised. 
, In his relations with southern Italy and with Constantinople 
Leo IX was less fortimate. The advancing claims of the Nor- 
mans, who since 1016 had been gradually conquering the lower 
part of the peninsula, were opposed by the Pope, who asserted 
possession for the papacy. Papal interference with the 
churches, especially of Sicily, which still paid allegiance to 
Constantinople, aroused the assertive patriarch of that city, 
Michael Cerularius (1043-1058), who now, in conjunction with 
Leo, the metropolitan of Bulgaria, closed the churches of the 
Latin rite in their regions and attacked the Latin Church in a 
letter written by the latter urging the old charges of Photius 
(ante, p. 213), and adding a condenmation of the use of un- 
leavened bread in the Lord's Supper — a custom which had be- 
come common in the West in the ninth century. Leo IX 
replied by sending Cardinal Humbert and Frederick of Lor- 
raine, the papal chancellor, to Constantinople in 1054, by whom 
an excommunication of Michael Cerularius and all his followers 
was laid on the high altar of St. Sofia. This act has been 
usually regarded as the formal separation of the Greek and 
Latin Churches. In 1053 I-«eo's forces were defeated and he 
himself captured by the Normans. He did not long survive 
this catastrophe, dying in 1054. 

On the death of Leo IX, Henry III appointed another Ger- 
man, Bishop Gebhard of Eichstkdt, as Pope. He took the 
title of Victor II (1055-1057). Though friendly to the rrform 


party, Victor II was a devoted admirer of his imperial pa^on, 
and on the miexpected death of the great Emperor in 1956, 
did much to secure the quiet succession of Henry IIFs son . . 
Henry IV, then a boy of six, under the regency of the Empress 
Mother, Agnes. Less than a year later Victor II died. 


Henry IIFs dominance was undoubtedly displeasing to the 
more radical reformers, who had endiured it partly of necessity,/ 
since it was not apparent how the papacy could otherwise be \ 
freed from the control of the Roman nobles, and partly because \ 
of Henry's sympathy with many features of the reform move- ^ 
ment. Henry himself had been so firmly intrenched in his 
control of the German church, and of the papacy itself, that 
the logical consequences of the reform movement appear not 
to have been dear to him. Now he was gone. A weak re- 
gency had taken his place. The time seemed ripe to the re-* 
formers for an advance which should lessen imperial control, 
or, if posidble, end it altogether. 

On Victor II's death the Romans, led by the reform clergy, ^ 
chose Frederick of Lorraine Pope as Stephen IX (1057-1058) ^ 
without consulting the Germa|^ regent. A thoroughgoing 
reformer, the new Pope was the brother of Duke Godfrey of 
Lorraine, an enemy of the German imperial house, who by hb 
marriage with the Countess Beatrice of Tuscany had become 
the strongest noble in northern Italy. Under Stephen, Cardinal 
Humbert now issued a programme for the reform party in his 
Three Books Against the, Simoniacs, in which he declared all /' 
lay appointment invalid and, in especial, attacked lay investi- 
ture, that is the gift by the Emperor of a ring and a staff to 
the elected bishop in token of his induction into office. The 
victory of these principles would undermine the foimdations 
of the imperial power in Germany. Their strenuous asser- 
tion could but lead to a struggle of gigantic proportions. 
Nevertheless, Stephen did not dare push matters too far. 
He, therefore, sent Hildebrand and Bishop Anselm of Lucca, 
who secured tiie approval of the Empress Agnes for his papacy. 
Scarcely had this been obtained when Stephen died in Flor- 

Stephen's death provoked a crisis. The Roman nobles re- 


asserted their old authority over the papapy and chose thdr 
own partisan, Benedict X, only a week later. The reform 
cardinals had to flee. Their cause seemed for the moment 
\ lost. The situation was saved by the fimmess and political 
' skill of Hildebrand. He secured the approval of Godfrey of 
Tuscany and of a part of the people of Rome for the candidacy 
of Grerhard/ bishop of Florence, a reformer and, like Grodfrey, a 
native of Lorraine. A representative of thb Roman minority 
obtained the consent of the regent, Agnes. Hildebrand now 
gathered the reform cardinals in Siena, and Gerhard was there 
chosen as Nicholas H (105S-1061). The military aid of God- 
frey of Tuscany soon made the new Pope master of Rome. 
Under Nicholas U the real power was that of Hildebrand, and 
in lesser degree of the cardinials Humbert and Peter Damiani. 

The problem was to free the papacy from the control of the 
Roman nobles without coming under the overlordship of the 
Emperor. Some physical support for the papacy must be 
found. The aid of Tuscany could be counted as assured. 
Beatrice and her daughter, Matilda, were to be indefatigable 
in assistance. Yet Tuscany was not sufficient. Under the 
skilful guidance of Hildebrand, Nicholas II entered into cordial 
relations with the Normans, who had caused Leo IX so much 
trouble, recognized their conquests, and received them as 
vassals of the papacy. With like ability, intimate connections 
were now established, largely through the agency of Peter 
Damiani and Bishop Anselm of Lucca, with the democratic 
party in Lombardy known as the Pataria, opposed to the aati- 
reformatory and imperialistic higher clergy of that r^on. 
Strengthened by these new alliances, Nicholas II at the R(»aan 
3ynod of 1059 expressly forbad lay investiture under any cir- 

The most significant event of the papacy of Nicholas II was 
the decree of this Roman synod of 1059 regulating choice to 
the papacy — ^the oldest written constitution now in force, since, 
in spite of considerable modification, it governs the selection of 
Popes to this day. In theory, the choice of the Pope had been, 
like that of other bishops, by the clergy and people of the city 
of his see. This was termed a canonical election. In practice, 
such election had meant control by whatever political powder 
was dominant in Rome. The design of the new constitution 
was to remove that danger. In form, it put into law the cir- 


cumstances of Nicholas's own election.^ Its chief author seems 
to have been Cardinal Humbert. It provided that, on the 
death of a Pope, the cardinal bishops shall first consider as to 
his successor and then advise with the other cardinals. Only 
after their selection has been made should the suffrages of the 
other clergy and people be sought. In studiously vague lan- 
guage, the document guards "the honor and reverence due to 
our beloved son Henry" — that is the youthful Henry IV — but 
does not in the least define the Emperor's share in the choice. 
The evident purpose was to put the election into the hands of 
the cardinals, primarily of the cardinal bishops. It was, 
furthermore, provided that the Pope might come from any- 
where in the church, that the election could be held elsewhere 
than in Rome in case of necessity, and that the Pope chosen 
should possess the powers of his office immediately on election 
wherever he might be. This was, indeed, a revolution in the 
method of choice of the Pope, and would give to the office an 
independence of political control not heretofore possessed. 

Soarcely had these new political and constitutional results 
been achieved than they were imperilled by the death of 
Nicholas II in 1061. That of the energetic Cardinal Humbert 
also occurred the same year. Hildebrand became more than 
ever the ruling force in the reform party. Within less than 
three months of Nicholas's death, Hildebrand had secured the 
election of his friend Anselm, bishop of Lucca, as Alexander II 
(1061-1073). The German bishops were hostile, however, to 
the new method to papal election, the Lombard prelates dis- 
liked the papal support of the Pataria, and the Roman nobles 
resented their loss of control over the papacy. These hostile 
elements now tmited, and at a German assembly held in Basel 
in 1061 procured from the Empress-regent the appointment as 
Pope of Cadalus, bishop of Parma, who took the name of 
Honorius II. In the struggle that followed, Honorius nearly 
won; but a revolution in Germany in 1062 placed the chief 
power in that realm and the guardianship of the young Henry 
IV in the hands of the ambitious Anno, archbishop of Cologne. 
Anno wished to stand well with the reform party, and threw 
his influence on the side of Alexander, who was declared the 
rightful Pope at a synod of German and Italian prelates held 

^Text in Henderson, Select Hisiorical Document, pp. 361-305. Tbt 
80-caIled '^ Papal Version "is in all probability the ori|^nal. 


in Mantua in 1064. Thus Hildebrand's bold policy triumphed 
over a divided Grennany. 
J Alexander II, with Hildebrand's guidance, advanced the papal 
/'BUthority markedly. Anno of Cologne and Siegfried of Mainz, 
two of the most powerful prelates of Germany, were compelled 
to do penance for simony. He prevented Henry IV from secur- 
ing a divorce from Queen Bertha. He lent his approval to 
William the Conqueror's piratical expedition which resulted 
in the Norman conquest of England in 1066, and further aided 
William's plans by the establishment of Norman bishops in the 
principal English sees. He gave his sanction to the efforts of 
the Normans of southern Italy which were to result in the 
conquest of Sicily. Meanwhile Henry IV came of age in 1065. 
Far from being a weak King, he soon showed himself one of the 
most resourceful of German rulers. It was inevitable that the 
papal policy regarding ecclesiastical appointments should clash 
with that historic control by German sovereigns on which their 
power in the empire so largely rested. The actual dispute 
came over the archbishopric of Milan — a post of the first im- 
portance for the control of northern Italy. Henry had ap- 
pointed Godfrey of Castiglione, whom Alexander had charged 
with simony. The Pataria of Milan chose a certain Atto, 
whom Alexander recognized as rightful archbishop. In spite 
of that act, Henry now secured Godfrey's consecration, in 
1073, to the disputed post. The struggle was fully on. 
The contest involved the power of the imperial government 
and the claims of the radical papal reform party. Alexander 
looked upon Henry as a well-intentioned young man, misled 
by bad advice, and he therefore excommunicated not Henry 
himself, but Henry's immediate counselors as guilty of simony. 
Within a few days thereafter Alexander II died, leaving the 
great dispute to his successor. 


Hildebrand's election came about in curious disregard of the 
'new constitution established under Nicholas II. During the 
funeral of Alexander II, in St. John liateran, the crowd ac- 
claimed Hildebrand Pope, and carried him, almost in a riot, to 
the church of St. Peter in Chains, where he was enthroned. He 
took the name of Gregory VII (1073-1086). In his accesaioii 


the extremest interpretation of the principles of Augustine's 
City of God had reached the papal throne. The papacy he 
viewed as a divinely appointed universal sovereignty, whidi all 
must obey, and to which all earthly sovereigns are responsible, 
not only for their spiritual welfare, but for their temporal good 
government. Though Cardinal Deusdedit, rather than Hilde- 
brand, was probably the author of the famous Dictatua, it well 
expresses Hildebrand's principles: "That the Roman Church 
was founded by God alone." "That the Roman pontiflf alone 
can with right be called universal." "That he alone can de- 
pose or reinstate bishops." "That he alone may use [i. e., dis- 
pose of] the imperial insignia." "That it may be permitted 
him to depose Emperors." "That he himself may be judged 
of no one." "That he may absolve subjects from their feaJty 
to wicked men."^ It was nothing less than an ideal of world- 
rulership. In view of later experience it may be called imprac- 
ticable and even unchristian; but neither Hildebrand nor his 
age had had that experience. It was a great ideal of a possible 
regenerated human society, effected by obedience to conmiand- 
ing spiritual power, and as such was deserving of respect in 
those who held it, and worthy of that trial which alone could 
reveal its value or worthlessness. 

The opening years of Hildebrand's pontificate were favorable 
for the papacy. A rebellion against Henry IV by his Saxon 
subjects, who had many grievances, and the discontent of the 
nobles of other regions kept Henry fully occupied. In 1074 he 
did penance in Nuremberg before the papal legates, and prom- 
ised obedience. At the Easter synod in Rome in 1075, Hilde- 
brand renewed the decree against lay investiture, denying to 
Henry any share in creating bishops. A few months later \ 
Henry's fortunes changed. In June, 1075, his defeat' of the 
Saxons made him apparently master of Germany, and his atti- 
tude toward the papacy speedily altered. Henry once more 
made an appointment to the archbishopric of Milan. Hilde- 
brand replied, in December, 1075, with a letter calling Henry 
to severe account.^ On January 24, 1076, Henry, with his 
nobles and bishops, held a council in Worms, at which the turn- 
coat cardinal, Hugh the White, was forward with personal 

^Henderson, Sdeci Historical DocumentSf pp. 366, 367; extracts in 
Robinson, Readings in European History , 1 : 274. 
« Henderson, pp. 367-371 ; Robinson, 1 : 276-279. 




charges against Hildebrand. There a large portion of the Ger- 
man bishops joined in a fierce denunciation of Hildebrand and 
a rejection of his authority as Pope' — an action for which the 
approval of the Lombard prelates was speedily secured. 

Hildebrand's reply was the most famous of mediseval papal 
decrees. At the Roman synod of February 22, 1076, he ex- 
, conmiunicated Henry, forbad him authority over Germany and 
Italy, and released all Henry's subjects from their oaths of 
allegiance.' It was the boldest assertion of papal authority 
that had ever been made. To it Henry replied by a fiery letter 
addressed to Hildebrand, "now no pope, but a false monk," in 
which he called on Hildebrand to " come down, to be damned 
throughout all eternity."' 

Had Henry IV had a imited Germany behind him the result 
might easily have been Hildebrand's overthrow. Germany was 
inot united. The. Saxons and Henry's other political enemies 
used the opportunity to make him trouble. Even the bishops 
had regard for the authority of a Pope they had nominally 
rejected. Henry was unable to meet the rising opposition. 
An assembly of nobles in Tribur, in October, 1076, declared that 
unless released from excommunication within a year he would 
be deposed, and the Pope was invited to a new assembly to 
meet in Augsburg, in February, 1077, at which the whole Ger- 
man political and religious situation should be considered. 
Henry was in great danger of losing his throne. It became a 
\ matter of vital importance to free himself from excommunica^ 
tion. Hildebrand refused all appeals; he would settle the ques- 
tions at Augsburg. 

Henry IV now resolved on a step of the utmost dramatic and 
political significance. He would meet Hildebrand before the 
. Pope could reach the assembly in Augsburg and wring from 
him the desired absolution. He crossed the Alps in the winter 
and sought Hildebrand in northern Italy, through which the 
Pope was paasiog on bis way to Germany. In doubt whether 
Henry came in peace or war, Hildebrand sought refuge in the 
strong castle of Canossa, belonging to his ardent supports, the 
Countess Matilda of Tuscany, the daughter of Beatrice (ante, 

^ HfiiidefBoii, pp. 37^-076. 

* Hendenon, pp. 376, 377; Robinaon, 1 : 281» 282. 

* Henderson, pp. 372, 373 ; Robinson, 1 : 27^281. The letter seems to 
belong here, rather than to January, 1076, to which it is often assigned. 


p. 226). Thither Henry went, and there presented himself 
before the castle gate on three successive days, barefooted as a 
penitent. The Pope's companions pleaded for him, and on 
January 28, 1077, Henry IV was released from exconununica- 
tion. In many ways it was a political triumph for the King. 
He had thrown his German opponents into confusion. He had 
prevented a successful assembly in Augsburg under papal lead« 
ership. The Pope's plans had been disappointed. Yet the 
event has always remained in men's recollection as the deepest 
humiliation of the mediaeval empire before the power 6f the 

In March, 1077, Henry's German enemies, without Hilde- 
brand's instigation, chose Rudolf, duke of Swabia, as counter- 
King. Civil war ensued, while the Pope balanced one claim- 
ant against the other, hoping to gain for himself the ultimate 
decision. Forced at last to take sides, Hildebrand, at the 
Roman ^ynod in March, 1080, a second time exconunimicated 
and deposed Henry.* The same political weapons can seldom 
be used twice effectively. Sentiment had crystallized in Ger- 
many, and this time the Pope's action had little effect. Henry 
answered by a synod in Brixen in June, 1080, deposing Hilde- 
brand,* and choosing one of Hildebrand's bitterest opponents. 
Archbishop Wibert of Ravenna, as Pope in his place. Wibert 
called himself Clement III (1080-1100). The deaA of Rudolf 
in battle, in October following, left Henry stronger in Grermany 
than ever before. He determined to be rid of Hildebrand. In 
1081 Henry invaded Italy, but it was three years before he 
gained possession of Rome. Pressed upon by the overwhelming 
German and Lombard forces, Hildebrand's political supporters 
proved too weak to offer permanently effective resistance. The 
Roman people, and no less than thirteen of the cardinals, turned 
to the victorious German ruler and his Pope. In March, 1084, 
Wibert was enthroned, and crowned Henry Emperor. Hilde- 
brand, apparently a beaten man, still held the castle of San 
Angelo, and absolutely refused any compromise. In May a 
Norman army came to Hildebrand's relief, but these rough sup- 
porters so biu'ned and plundered Rome, that he had to with- 

^ The best account is that of Hildebrand himself. Hendenon, pp. 385- 
387; Robinson, 1:282-283. 
> Henderson, pp. 388-391. 
' Ibid,, pp. 391-394. 



draw with them, and after nearly a year of this painful exile, 
he died in Salerno, on May 25, 1085. 

Hildebrand's relations to other countries have been passed 
by in the account of his great struggle with Germany. It may 
be sufficient to say that his aims were similar, though so en- 
grossed was he in the conflict with Henry IV that he never 
. pushed matters to such an extreme with the Kings of England 
and France. He attempted to bring the high clergy every- 
/"where under his control. He caused extensive codification of 
' church law to be made. He enforced clerical celibacy as not 
only the theoretical but the practical rule of the Roman Church. 
If his methods were worldly and imscrupulous, as they un- 
doubtedly were, no misfortune ever caused him to abate his 
claims, and even in apparent defeat he won a moral victor}'. 
The ideals that he had established for the papacy were to live 
long after him. 


On the death of Hildebrand, the cardinals faithful to him 
chose as his successor Desiderius, the able and scholarly abbot 
of Monte Cassino, who took the name of Victor III (1086- 
1087). So discouraging was the outlook that he long refused 
the doubtful honor. When at last he accepted it, he quietly 
dropped Hildebrand's extremer efforts at world-rulership, 
though renewing the prohibition of lay investiture with utmost 
vigor. He was, however, able to be in Rome but a few days. 
That city remained in the hands of Wibert, and before the end 
of 1087 Victor III was no more. The situation of the party 
of Hildebrand seemed well-nigh hopeless. After much hesita- 
tion, a few of the reform cardinals met in Terracina, and chose 
a French Cluny monk, who had been appointed a cardinal 
bishop by Hildebrand, Odo of Lagary, as Pope Urban II (1088- 
1099). A man of Hildebrandian convictions, without Hilde- 
brand's genius. Urban was far more conciliatory and politically 
skilful. He sought with great success to create a friendly 
party among the German dergy, aided thereto by the monks 
of the influential monastery of Hirschau. He stirred up dis- 
affection for Henry IV, often by no worthy means. Yet it was 
not till the close of 1093 that Urban was able to take effective 
possession of Rome and drive out Wibert. His rise in power 


was thence rapid. At a great synod held in Piacenza in March, 
1095, he sounded the note of a crusade. At Clermont in No- 
vember of the same year he brought the Crusade into being 
(p. 239). On the flood of the crusading movement Urban rose 
at once to a position of European leadership. Henry IV and 
Wibert might oppose him, but the papacy had achieved a 
popular significance compared with wluch they had nothing to 

Though men were weary of the long strife, the next Pope, 
Paschal II (1099-1118), niade matters worse rather than bet- 
ter. Henry IV's last days were disastrous. A successful re- 
bellion, headed by his son, Henry V (1106-1125), forced his 
abdication in 1105. His death followed the next year. Henry 
V's position in Germany was stronger than his father's ever 
had been, and he was more unscrupulous. His assertion of his 
rights of investiture was as insistent as that of his father. In 
1110 Henry V marched on Rome in force. Paschal II was pow- 
erless and without the courage of a Hildebrand. The Pope and 
Henry now agreed (1111) that the King should resign his right 
of investiture, provided the bishops of Germany should relin- 
quish to him aU temporal lordships.^ That would have been a 
revolution that would have reduced the German church to 
poverty, and the protest raised on its promulgation in Rome, 
in February, 1111, showed it impossible of accomplishment. 
Henry V then took the Pope and the cardinals prisoners. Pas- 
chal weakened. In April, 1111, he resigned to Henry investi- 
ture with ring and staff, and crowned him Emperor.* The Hil- 
debrandian party stormed in protest. At the Roman synod of 
March, 1112, Paschal withdrew his agreement, which he could 
well hold was wrung from him by force. A synod in Vienne in 
September exconununicated Henry and forbad lay investiture, 
and this action the Pope approved. 

Yet the basis* of a compromise was already in sight. Two 
French church leaders, Ivo, bishop of Chartres, and Hugo of 
Fleury, in writings between 1099 and 1106, had argued that 
church and state each had their rights of investiture, the one 
with spiritual, the other with temporal authority. Anselm, the 
famous archbishop of Canterbury, a firm supporter of reform 
principles (1093-1109), had refused investiture from Henry I 

» Henderson, pp. 405-407 ; Robinson, 1 : 290-292. 
« Henderson, pp, 407, 408. 


of England (1100-1135), and led to a contest which ended in 
the resignation by the King of investiture with ring and staiF, 
while retaining to the crown investiture with temporal posses- 
sion by the reception of an oath of fealty. These principles and 
precedents influenced the further course of the conlroversy. 
The compromise came in 1122, in the Concordat of Worms, 
arranged between Henry V and Pope Calixtus II (1119-1124). 
By mutual agreement, elections of bishops and abbots in Ger- 
many were to be free and in canonical form, yet the presence of 
the Emperor at the choice was allowed, and in case of disputed 
election he should consult with the metropolitan and other bish- 
ops of the province. In other parts of the empire. Burgundy 
and Italy, no mention was made of the imperial presence. The 
Emperor renounced investiture with ring and staff, i. e., with 
the symbols of spiritual authority. In turn, the Pope granted 
him the right of investiture with the temporal possessions of 
the office by the touch of the royal sceptre, without demand of 
payment from the candidate. This imperial recognition was 
to take place in Germany before consecration, and in the other 
parts of the empire within six months thereafter.^ The effect 
was that in Germany at least a bishop or abbot must be accept- 
able both to the dburch and to the Emperor. In Italy the 
imperial power, which had rested on control of churchly ap- 
pointments, was greatly broken. It was an outcome of the 
struggle which would but partially have satisfied Hildebrand. 
Yet tixe church had won much. If not superior to the state, 
it had vindicated its equality with the temporal power. 



The Isaurian dynasty in Constantinople (717-^2), witnessed 
the severe internal conflicts caused by the picture-worshipping 
controversy, which was in a measure a struggle for the freedom 
of the church from imperial control (ante, p. 162). It beheld 
the loss of Rome and of the Exarchate, and the rise of the 
renewed Western empire under Charlemagne. The periods of 
the Phrygian (820-867) and Macedonian dynasties (867-1057) 
were marked by a notable revival of learning, so that, intellec- 
tually, the East was decidedly superior to the West. The pa- 

^ Henderson, pp. 408, 409 ; Robinson, 1 : 292, 293. 


triarchy Photius^ whose quarrel with Nicholas I has aheady 
been noted^ was of eminent scholarship. His MyriobibUm is 
of permanent worth, as preserving much of ancient classical 
authors otherwise lost* Symeon ''Metaphrastes" compiled his 
famous collection of the lives of the Eastern saints in the tenth 
century. In Symeon, "the New Theologian" (?-1040?), the 
Greek Church had its noblest mystic, who believed that the 
revelation of the divine light — ^the very vision of (Jod — ^is pos- 
sible of attainment and is of grace, bringing peace, joy, and jus- 
tification. Theologically, the Greek world had nothing new to 
offer. It held with intensity to the traditions of the past. 

The chief religious controversy in the East of this epoch was 
that caused by the Paulicians. The origin and history of the 
movement is obscure. They called themselves Christians sim- 
ply, their nickname being apparently due to their reverence 
for Paul the Apostle, rather than as sometimes claimed to any 
real connection with Paul of Samosata. The movement ap- 
pears to have begun with a Constantine-Silvanus, of Mananalis, 
near Samosata, about 650-660. In it ancient heretical beliefs, 
akin to and perhaps derived from the Marcionites and Gnostics, 
reappeared. Though the Paulicians repudiated Manichasism, 
they were dualists, holding that this world is the creation of 
an evil power, while souls are from the kiijgdom of the good 
God. They accepted the New Testament, with the possible 
exception of the writings ascribed to Peter, as the message of 
the righteous Grod. They viewed Christ as an angel sent by 
the good God, and hence Son of God by adoption. His work 
was primarily that of instruction. They rejected monasticism, 
the external sacraments, the cross, images, and relics. Their 
ministry was that of wandering preachers and " copyists." The 
Catholic hierarchy they repudiated. They opposed the ex- 
temalism of current orUiodox religious life. 

The Paulicians seem to have spread rapidly in the Eastern 
empire, and to have taken strong root in Armenia. Persecuted 
by the orthodox, their military powers procured them consider- 
able respect. Constantine V transplanted colonies of them to 
the Balkan peninsula in 752, as a defense against the Bulgarians 
— a process which was repeated on a larger scale by the Em- 
peror, John Tzimiskes, in 969. There they seem to have given 
origin to the very similar Bogomiles, who in turn were to be 
influential in the development of the Cathari of southern France 


(p. 249). Driven to seek refuge among the Saracens, aome'sec- 
tions of the Paulicians harassed the borders of the empire in 
the ninth century, and even penetrated deeply into it, till their 
military success, though not their religious activity, was per- 
manently checked by the Emperor, Basil I, in 87L 

The latter hallP of the ninth and the tenth centuries was a 
period of revived military power for the Eastern empire, espe- 
cially under John Tzuniskes (969^6) and Basil II (976-1025). 
By die latter, Bulgaria and Aimenia were conquered. Internal 
dissensions and a fear of usiuping militarism weakened the 
empire in the eleventh century, so that the rise of the Seljuk 
Turks found it unprepared. In 1071 the Turks conquered a 
large part of Asia Minor, and in 1080 established themselves in 
Nicsea, less than a hundred miles from Constantino ple. This 
great loss ta Christianity was to be one of the caus^ leading 
to the Crusades. 


The tenth and eleventh centuries were an epoch of large 
extension of Christianity. Ansgar's work in the Scandinavian 
lands {ante, p. 213) had left few results. Scandinavian Chris- 
tianization was a ^ow and gradual process. Unni, archbishop 
of Hamburg (918-936), imitated Ansgar, but without great 
success. The work was carried forward by Archbishop AdaJdag 
(937-988). Under his influence, King Harold Bluetooth of 
Denmark accepted Christianity, and Danish bishoprics were 
established. Under Harold's son, Sweyn, heathenism was 
again in power; but he was brought to favor the church in 
995, and the work was completed in Denmark by King Canute 
the Great (1015-1035), who also ruled England and, for a 
time, Norway. 

The story of Norway is similar. Some Christian beginnings 
were made under Hakon I (935-961), and missionaries were 
sent by Harold Bluetooth of Denmark. Christianity in Nor- 
way was not permanently established till the time of Olaf I 
(995-1000), who brought in English preachers. The work 
was now extended to tibe Orkneys, Shetland, Hebrides, Faroe, 
Iceland, and Greenland, then in Scandinavian possession. 
Olaf II (1015-1028) enforced Christianity in Norway with 
such extreme measures that he was deposed and Canute gained 


control; yet he lives in tradition as St. Olaf. Magnus I (1035- 
1047) completed the work. 

In Sweden, after many beginnings from the time of Ansgar, 
Christianity was effectively established by King Olaf Skott- 
konung (994-1024), who was baptized in 1008. Yet the work 
was slow, and headienism was not fully overthrown till about ^ 
1100. Finland and Lapland were not reached till two cen- 
turies later. 

After various efforts in the tenth century, Christianity was" 
effectively established in Hungary by King Stephen I (997- y 
1038), the organizer of the Hungarian monarchy, who lives 
in history as. St. Stephen. The Polish duke, Mieczyslaw, ac- 
cepted Christianity in 967, and in 1000 King Boleslaus I 
(992-1025) organized the Polish church with an archbishopric 
in Gnesen. Pomerania was not Christianized till 1124-1128. 

The movements just considered were the work of the Latin *^ 
Church. The great extension of the Greek Church lies in this 
period and was accomplished by the conversion of Russia. 
Its beginnings are obscure. Efforts for the spread of Chris- 
tianity in Russia seem to have been made as early as the time 
of the patriarch of Constantinople Photius (866). The Rus- 
sian Queen, Olga, received baptism on a visit to (Constantinople 
in 957. The work was at last definitely established by Grand- 
duke Vladimir I (980-1015), who received baptism in 988, 
and compelled his subjects to follow his example. A metro- 
politan, nominated by the patriarch of Constantinople, was 
placed at the head of the Russian church, with his see speedily 
in Kiev, from which it was transferred in 1299 to the dty of 
Vladimir, and in 1325 to Moscow. 



The Crusades are in many ways the most remarkable of 
the phenomena of the Middle Ages. Their causes were many. 
The historian who emphasizes economic influences may weU 
claim the unusuaUy trying conditions of the eleventh century 
as a main source. Between 970 and 1040 forty-eight famine 
years were counted. From 1085 to 1095 conditions were 
even worse. Misery and unrest prevailed widely. The more 
settled conditions of the age made impossible such migrations 
of nations as had been exhibited in the Germanic invasions 
at the downfall of the Western empire. The same desire to 
change environment was, however, felt. 

Stimulated by these economic conditions, doubtless, the 
whole eleventh century was a period of deepening religious 
feeling. Its manifestations took monastic and ascetic forms. 
It was characterized by a strong sense of ''other-worldliness," 
of the misery of earth and the blessedness of heaven. This 
increasing religious zeal had been the force which had reformed 
the papacy, and had supported antagonism to simony and 
Nicolaitanism, and nerved the long struggle with the empire. 
Those regions where the reform movement had shone brightest, 
or which had come into closest relations with the reforming 
papacy, France, Lorraine, and southern Italy, were the recruit- 
ing-grounds of the chief crusading armies. The piety of the 
time placed great value on relics and pilgrimages, and what 
more precious relic could there be, or what nobler pilgrimage 
shrine, than the land hallowed by the life, death, and resurrec- 
tion of Christ? That land had been an object of pilgrimage 
since the days of Constantine. Though Jerusalem had been 
in Moslem possession since 638, pilgrimages had been, save 
for brief intervals, practically uninterrupted. They had never 
been more numerous than in the eleventh century, till the 
conquest of much of Asia Minor, from 1071 onward, and the 
capture of Jerusalem, by the Seljuk Turks, made pilgrimages 
almost impossible and desecrated the holy places. 



It was to an age profoundly impressed with the spiritual 
advantage of pilgrimages that the news of these things came. 
The time, moreover, was witnessing successful contests with 
Mohammedanism. Between 1060 and 1090 the Normans 
of southern Italy had wrested Sicily from the Moslems. 
Under Ferdinand I of Castile (1028-1065) the effective Chris- 
tian reconquest of Spain from the Mohammedans had begun. 
The later deventh century is the age of the Cid (1040?-1()99). 
The feeling was wide-spread that Christianity could dispossess 
Mohammoianism. Love of adventure, hopes for plunder, 
desire for territorial advancement and religious hatred, un- 
doubtedly moved the Crusaders with very earthly uppulses. 
We should wrong them, however, if we did not recognize with 
equal deamess that they thought they were doing something 
of the highest importance for their souls and for Christ. 

The fi»t impidse to the Crusades came from an appeal of 
the Eastern Emperor, Michael VII (1067-1078), to Hildebrand 
for aid against the Seljuks. That great Pope, to whom this 
seemed to promise the reunion of Greek and Latin Christen- 
dom, took the matter up in 1074, and was able to report to 
Henry IV of Grermany diat fifty thousand men were ready to 
go under the proper leadership. The speedy outbreak of the 
investiture struggle frustrated the plan. It was effectively 
to be revived by Urban II, the heir in so many directions of 

I Alexius I (1081-1118), a stronger ruler than his inunediate 
predecessors in Constantinople, felt unable to cope with the 
perils which threatened the empire. He, therefore, appealed 
to Urban U for assistance. Urban received the imperud mes- 
sengers at the synod in Hacenza, in northern Italy, in March, 
1095, and promised his help. At the ^ynod held in Clermont, 
in eastern France, in the following November, Urban now 
prodaimed the Crusade in an appesd of almost unexampled 
consequence. The enterprise had magnified in his concep- 
tion from that of aid to the hard-pressed Alexius to a general 
rescue of the holy places from Moslem hands. He called on 
all Christendom to take part in the work, promising for- 
giveness of sins to all and eternal life to those who should fall 
in the enteri^ise. The message found inunediate and mthu- 
siastic response. Among the popular preachers who took it 
up none was more famous than Peter the Hermit, a monk 


from Amiens or its vicinity. Early legend attributed to him 
the origin of the Crusade itself, of which he was imquestionably 
one of the most effective prodaimers. He does not deserve 
the distinction thus attributed to him, nor was his conduct on 
the Crusade, once it had started, such as to do credit to his 
leadership or even to his courage. 

Such was the enthusiasm engendered, especially in France, 
that large groups of peasants, with some knights among them, 
set forth in the spring of 1096, imder the I^ui of Walter the 
Penniless; a priest, Gottschalk, and Peter the Hermit himsdf. 
By some of these wild companies many Jews were massacred 
in the Rhine cities. Their own disorderly pillage led to savage 
reprisals in Himgary and the Balkans. That under Peter 
reached Constantinople, but was almost entirely destroyed by 
the Turks in an attempt to reach Niceea. Peter himself did 
not share this catastrophe, joined the main crusading force, 
and survived the perils of the expedition. 

The real work of the First Crusade was accomplished by 
the feudal nobility of Europe. Three great armies were raised. 
That from Lorraine and Belgium included Grodfrey of Bouillon, 
the moral hero of the Crusade, since he conunanded the respect 
due to his single-minded and unselfish devotion to its aims, 
though not its ablest general. With Godfrey were his brothers, 
Baldwin and Eustace. Other armies from northern France 
were led by Hugh of Vermandois and Robert of Normandy. 
From southern France came a large force imder Count Rai- 
mond of Toulouse, and from Norman Italy a well-equipped 
army led by Bohemund of Taranto and his nephew Tancred. 
The earliest of these forces started in August, 1096. No single 
conunander led the hosts. Urban II had appointed Bishop 
Ademar of Puy his legate; and Ademar designated Constan- 
tinople as the gathering place. Thither each army made its 
way as best it could, arriving there in the winter and spring 
of 1096-1097, and causing Alexius no little difficulty by their 
disorder and demands. 

In May, 1097, the crusading army began the si^e of Nicsea. 
Its surrender followed in Jime. On July 1 a great victory 
over the Turks near Dorykeum opened the route across Asia 
Minor, so that Iconium was reached, after severe losses through 
hunger and thirst, by the middle of August. By October the 
crusading host was before the walls of Antioch. That dty 




it captured only after a difficult siege, on June 3, 1098. Three 
days later the Crusaders were besieged in the city by the 
Turkish ruler Kerbogha of Mosul. The crisis of the Crusade 
was this time of peril and despair; but on June 28 Kerbogha 
was completely defeated. Yet it was not till June, 1099, that 
Jerusalem was reached, and not till July 15 that it was cap- 
tured and its inhabitants put to the sword. The complete 
defeat of an Egyptian relieving army near Ascalon on August 
12, 1099, crowned the success of the Crusade. 

On the completion of the work, Godfrey of Bouillon was 
chosen Protector of the Holy Sepulchre. He died in July, 
1100, and was succeeded by his abler brother, who had estab- 
lished a Latin county in Edessa, and now took the titie of King 
Baldwin I (llOfr-1118). The Crusaders were from the feudal 
West, and the country was divided and organized in full feudal 
fashion. It included, besides the Holy Land, the principality 
of Antioch, and the counties of Tripoli and Edessa, which were 
practically independent of the King of Jerusalem. In the 
towns important Italian business settiements sprang up; but 
most of tiie knights were French. Under a patriarch of the 
Latin rite in Jerusalem, the country was divided into four arch- 
bishoprics and ten bishoprics, and numerous monasteries were 

The greatest support of the kingdom soon came to be the 
military orders. Of these, that of the Templars was founded 
by Hugo de Payens in 1119, and granted quarters near the 
site of the temple — whence their name — ^by King Baldwin II 
(1118-1131). Through the hearty support of Bernard of Clair- 
vaux the order received papal approval in 1128, and soon won 
wide popularity in the West. Its members took the usual 
monastic vows and pledged themselves, in addition, to fight 
for the defense of the Holy Land and to protect pilgrims. They 
were not clergy, but laymen. In some respects the order was 
like a modem missionary society. Those who sympathized 
with the Crusade, but were debarred by age or sex from a 
personal share in the work, gave largely that they might be 
represented by others through the order. Since property 
was mostly in land, the Templars soon became great land- 
holders in the West. Their independence and wealth made 
them objects of royal jealousy, especially after their original 
puipose had been frustrated by the end of the Crusades, and 


led to their brutal suppression in France in 1307 by King 
Philip IV (1285-1314). While the Crusades lasted they were 
a main bulwark of the kingdom of Jerusalem. 

Much the same thing may be said of the great rivals of the 
Templars, the Hospitallers or Knights of St. John. Charle- 
magne had founded a hospital in Jerusalem, which was de- 
stroyed in 1010. Refounded by citizens of Amalfi, in Italy, 
it was in existence before the First Crusade, and was named 
for the church of St. John the Baptist, near which it stood. 
This foundation was made into a military order by its grand 
master, Raymond du Puy (1120-1160?), though without neg- 
lecting its duties to the sick. After the crusading epoch it 
maintained a struggle with the Turks from its seat in Rhodes 
(1310-1523), and then from Malta (1530-1798). A third and 
later order was that of the Teutonic Knights, founded by 
Germans in 1190. Its chief work, however, was not to be in 
Palestine but, from 1229 onward, in Prussia, or as it is now 
known. East Prussia, where it was a pioneer in civilization and 

In spite of feudal disorganization the kingdom of Jerusalem 
was fairly successful till the capture of Edessa by the Mo- 
hammedans in 1144 robbed it of its northeastern bulwark. 
Bernard of Clairvaux, now at the height of his fame, prodainpied 
a new Crusade and enlisted Louis VII of France (1137-1180) 
and the Emperor Conrad III (1138-1152) from Germany in 
1146. In 1147 the Second Crusade set forth; but it showed 
little of the fiery enthusiasm of its predecessor, its forces largely 
perished in Asia Minor, and such as reached Palestine were 
badly defeated in an attempt to take Damascus, in 1148. It 
was a disastrous failure, and its collapse left a bitter feeling in 
the West toward the Eastern empire, to whose princes that 
failure, rightly or wrongly, was charged. 

One reason of the success of the Latin kingdom had been 
the quarrds of the Mohammedans. In 1171 the Kurdish gen- 
eral, Saladin, made himself master of Egypt; by 1174 he had 
secured Damascus, and by 1183 Saladin's territories surrounded 
the Latin kingdom on tiie north, east, and south. A united 
Mohanmiedanism had now to be met. Results soon followed. 
At Hattin the Latin army was defeated in July^ 1187. The 
loss of Jerusalem and of most of the Holy Land speedily fol- 
lowed. The news of this catastrophe roused Europe to the 


Third Crusade (1189-1192). None of the Crusades was more 
elaborately equipped. Three great armies were led by the 
Emperor Frederid^ Barbarossa (1152-1190)9 the first soldier 
of his age, by King Philip Augustus of France (1179-1223), 
and by Kmg Richaid ''Coeur de lion'' of England (1189-1199). 
Frederick was accidentally drowned in Cilicia. His army, 
deprived of his vigorous leadership, was utterly ineffective. 
The quarrels between the Kings of France and England, and 
Philip's speedy return to France to push his own political 
schemes, rendered the whole expedition almost abortive. Acre 
was recovered, but Jerusalem remained in Moslem possession. 
The Fourth Crusade (1202-1204) was a small affair as far 
as numbers engaged, but of important political and religious 
consequences. Its forces were from the districts of nordiem 
France known as Champagne and Blois, and from Flanders. 
Men had become convinced that the true route to the recovery 
of Jerusalem was the preliminary conquest of Egypt. The 
Crusaders therefore bargained with the Venetians for trans- 
portation thither. Unable to raise the full cost, they accepted 
the proportion of the Venetians that, in lieu of the balance due, 
they stop on their way and conquer Zara from Hungary for 
Venice. This they did. A much greater proposal was now 
made to them. ThQr should stop at Constantinople, and assist 
in dethroning the imperial usurper, Alexius III (1195-1203). 
Alexius, son of the deposed Isaac II, promised the Crusaders 
large payment and help on their expedition provided they 
would overthrow the usurper, and crafty Venice saw bright 
prospects of increased trade. Western hatred of the Greeks 
contributed. Though Pope Innocent III forbad this division 
of purpose, the Crusaders were persuaded. Alexius III was 
eaaly driven from his throne ; but the other Alexius was unable 
to keep his promises to the Crusaders, who now with the Vene- 
tians, in 1204, captured Constantinople, and plundered its 
treasiues. No booty was more eagerly sought than the relics 
in the churches, which now went to enrich the places of worship 
of the West. Baldwin of Flanders was made Emperor, and a 
large portion of the Eastern empire was divided, feudal fash- 
ion, among Western knights. Venice obtained a considerable 
part and a monopoly of toule. A Latin patriarch of Constanti- 
nople was appointed, and the Greek Church made subject to 
the Pope. Tlie Eastern empire still continued, though it was 


not to regain Constantinople till 1261. This Latin conquest 
was disastrous. It greatly weakened the Eastern empire, and 
augmented the hatred between Greek and Latin Christianity. 

A melancholy episode was the so-called " Children's Crusade " 
of 1212. A shepherd boy, Stephen, in France, and a boy of 
Cologne, in Germany, Nidiolas, gathered thousands of children. 
Straggling to Italy, they were largely sold into slavery in Egypt. 
Other crusading attempts were made. An expedition against 
Egypt, in 1218-1221, had some initial success, but ended in 
failure. It is usually called the Fifth Crusade. The most 
curious was the Sixth (1228-1229). The free-thinking Emperor 
Frederick II (1212-1250), had taken the cross in 1215, but 
showed no haste to fulfil his vows. At last, in 1227, he started, 
but soon put back. He seems to have been really ill, but Pope 
Gregory IX (1227-1241), believing him a deserter, and having 
other grounds of hostility, excommunicated him. In spite of 
the ban, Frederick went forward in 1228, and the next year 
secured, by treaty with the Sultan of Egypt, possession of 
Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth and a path to the coast. 
Jerusalem was once more in Christian keeping till 1244, when it 
was permanently lost. The crusading spirit was now well-nigh 
spent, though Louis IX of France (St. Louis, 1226-1270) led 
a disastrous expedition against Egypt in 1248-1250, in which he 
was taken prisoner, and an attack on Tunis in 1270, in which 
he lost his life. The last considerable expedition was that of 
Prince Edward, soon to be Edward I of England (1272-1307), 
in 1271 and 1272. In 1291, the last of the Latin holdings in 
Palestine was lost. The Crusades were over, though men 
continued to talk of new expeditions for nearly two c^ituries 

Viewed from the aspect of their purpose the Crusades were 
failures. They made no permanent conquest of the Holy 
Land. It may be doubted whether they greatly retarded the 
advance of Mohammedanism. Their cost in lives and treasure 
was enormous. Though initiated in a high spirit of devotion 
their method^ at T?est were not those which modem cnristiafiiq 
reg ards as illustrative of the liospel. and tbeir conduct was 
fifagfacecl throughout by quarrels, dividea motives, AIM lo'w 
" Standards of persouRl ^nduot, Whftn their indiPRc?^ raaulfi^ are 
^amined, nowever, a very different estimate is to be made of 
their worth. CiviUzation is the result of so complex 




that it is hi 


^ precise values to single causes. Europe 
would bave made progress aurmg this penod bad tbere been no 

Crusades. But the changes wrought are so remarkable that 
the conclusion is unavoidable that the larges t single influence 
jya s that of the Crusade 

\y the conmierce wmch the Crusades stimulated the cities 
of northern Italy and of the great trade route over the Alps 
and down the Rhine rose to importance. By the sacrifices of 
feudal lands and property which they involved, a new political 
element, that of the towns — a "third estate" — ^was greatly 
stimulated, especially in France. The mental horizon of the 
Wes tern world was immeasurably ^tended. Thousanas wno 
>wu up m tne densest ignorance and narrow-mindedness 
were brought into contact with the splendid cities and ancient 
civilization of the East. 
awakening^ The period witn* 

"development ot tne jyjiddle Ages — ^thai oi Schn lajd-ipfRwi. It 
beheld great popular religious movements, in and outside of 
the church. It saw the development of the universities. In it 
the study of Roman law became a transforming influence. 
Modem vernacular literature began to flourish. A great artis- 
tic development, the national architecture of northern France, 
misnamed the Gothic, now ran its glorious career. The Europe 
of the period of the Crusades was awake and enlightened com- 
pared with the centuries which had gone before. A^^|pittiny 
that the Crusad es were but one factor in this result, they were 
wortb all 


£jlie epoch of the First Crusade was one of increasing religious 
earnestness, manifesting itself in other-worldliness^asceticism, 
mystical piety, and emphasis on the monastic life^ The long 
battle against simony and Nicolaitanism had turned popular 
sympathies from the often criticised *' secular," or ordinary 
dergy, to the monks as the true representatives of the rftliprifnp 
jdeaL vjluny had, m a measure, spent its t'orce. Its very 
success had led to luxury of living. New religious associations 
were arising, of which the most important was that of the 
Cistercians — an order which dominated the twelfth century 
as Cluny had the eleventh. 


Like Cluny, the Cistercians were of French origin. A Bene- 
dictine monk, Robert, of the monastery of Montier, impressed 
with the ill-discipline of contemporary monastidsm, founded a 
monastery of great strictness in Citeaux, not far from Dijon, 
in 1098. From the first, the purpose of the foundation of 
Citeaux was to cultivate a strenuous, self-denying life. Its 
buildings, utensils, even the surroundings of worship, were of 
the plamest character. In food and clotiiing it exercised great 
austerity. Its rule was that of Benedict, but its sdf-denial 
was far beyond that of Benedictines generally. Under its third 
abbot, Stephen Harding (1109*1134), an Englishman, the sig- 
nificance of Citeaux rapidly grew. Four affiliated monasteries 
were founded by 1115, under his leadership. Thenceforth its 
progress was rapid throughout all the West. By 1130, the 
Cistercian houses numbered thirty ; by 1168, two hundred and 
eighty-eight, and a century later six hundred and seventy-one. 
Over all these the abbot of Citeaux had authority, assisted by 
a yearly assembly of the heads of the affiliated monasteries. 
Much attention was devoted to agriculture, relatively little to 
teaching or pastoral work. The ideals were withdraw^ 
world, contemplation, andSutafaon oi "tlM>stohc poverty^ 

Mot a little of the early success oi the fJistercians was due to 
the influence o f_Bemard^ l090-1153), the greatest religious force 
of his age, and^. by common consent, deemed one of the chief 
of medi»val saints. Born of knightly ancestry in Fontaines, 
near Dijon, he inherited from his mother a deeply religious 
nature. With some thirty companions, the fruit of his powers 
of persuasion, he entered the monastery of Citeaux, probably 
in 1112. Thence he went forth in 1115 to found the Cistercian 
monastery of Clairvaux, abbot of which he remained, in spite 
of splendid offers of ecclesiastical preferment, till his death. ^ 
man of the utmost self -consecration, his prime motive was a love 
to i^nnst, wbich m spite oir extreme monastic 8e it-4no: " 
found so evangeiicai an expression as io win tha 
}f Luther ^"^ r!<^^^vin. - The rnvstjc contemn 


was his WhCTt spiritual joy^ It determined not merely his 
own type of piety, but very largely that 6f the age in its noblo* 
expr^ions. Above i^U, men admired in Bernard a moral force, 
a consistency of character, which added weight to all that he 
said and did. 
Bernard was far too much a man of action to be confined 


to the monastery. The first preacher of his age, and one of 
the greatest of all ages, he moved his fellows profoundly, from 
whatever social class they might come. He conducted a vast 
correspondence on the problems of the time. The interests of 
the church, of which he was regarded as the most eminent 
ornament, led to wide joumeyings. In particular, the healing 
of the papal schism which resulted in the double cJioice by the 
cardinals m 1130 of Innocent II (1130-1143) and Anacletus II 
(1130-1138) was Bernard's work. His dominating part in 
organizing the unfortunate Second Crusade has alreiEuiy been 
considered (ofUe, p. 242) . His influence with the papacy seemed 
but confirmed when a former monk of Clairvaux was chosen 
as Eugene III (1145-1153), though many things that Eugene 
did proved not to Bernard's liking. Convinced that his own 
views were the only orthodox conceptions, he persuaded others, 
also, and secured ^e condemnation of Abelaid (p. 265) by the 
qmod of Sens in 1141, and its approval by the Pope. In 1145 
Bernard preached, with some temporary success, to the heretics 
of southern France. In 1153 he died, the best known and the 
most widely mourned man of his age. 

Bernard's ascetic and other-worldly principles were repre- 
sented, curiously, in a man whom he bitterly oppo8ed- r-Amol< 
of Brescia- (?-1155). QVith all his devotion to "apostoT 
poverty,^' B^nard had no essential quarrel with the hierardhical 
organization of his day, or hostility to its exercise of power 
in worldly matters!^ Arnold was much more radical. Bom 
in Brescia, a student in France, he became a clergyman in his 
native city. TOf severe austerity, he advanced the opinion that 
the clergy should abandon all property and worldly power. 
So only could they be Christ's true disciples!! In the struggle 
between Innocent II and Anacletus II he won a large following 
in Brescia, but was compelled to seek refuge in France, where 
he became intimate with Abelard, and was joined with him in 
condenmation, at Bernard's instigation, by the synod of Sens 
(1141). Bernard secured Arnold's expulsion from France. 
In 1143 the Roman nobles had thrown oil the temporal control 
of the papacy and established what they believed to be a 
revival of the Senate. To Rome Arnold went, p^ ^as n^^- 
jl" pnlifinal \Mu\^r a p much as a preachcr of *' apostolic pov " ^-- " 
leene ill restored Amoid to cKurcli feiloi 

In 1145 Eugene ill restored Arnold to churcli fellowship, but 
by 1147, Arnold and the Romans had driven Eugene out of 


the city. There Arnold remained influential till the accession 
of the vigorQu& lyadrian IV (1154-1159) — ^the only English- 
man who has ever occupied the papal throne. Hadrian, in 
1155, compelled the Romans to expel Arnold by proclaiming 
an interdict forbidding religious services in the city; and bar- 
gained with the new (xerman sovereign, Frederick Barbarossa 
(1152-1190), for the destruction of Arnold as the price of im- 
perial coronation. In 1155 Arnold was hanged and his body 
burned. Though charged with heresy, these accusations are 
vague and seem to have had little RnbatAnnft.^ ^ r ^old'a up 
offense was his attack upon the riches and temporal power of 
le enure 
to more radical had been a preacher in southern France, 
in the opening years of the twelfth century — ^Peter of Bruys, 
of whose origin or early life little is known. "With a sinct as- 
ceticism he combined the denial of infant baptism, the rejec- 
tion of the Lord's Supper in any form, the repudiation of all 
ceremonies and even of church buildings, and the rejection of 
the cross, which should be condemned rather than honored 
as the instrument through which Christ had suffered. Peter 
also opposed prayers for the dead. Having burned crosses 
in St. Gilles, he was himself burned by the mob at an uncertain 
date, probably between 1120 and 1130. Reputed to be Peter's 
disciple, but hardly so to be regarded was Henry, called "of 
Lausanne^ ' once a Benedictine monk, who pfeached, with large 
following, from 1101 till his death after 1145, in western and 
especially southern France, ^bove all, a preacher of ascetic 
righteousness, he denied in ancient Donatist spirit the validity 
of sacraments administered by unworthy priests. His test of 
worthiness was ascetic life and apostolic povert}^ By this 
standard he condenmed the wealthy and power-secJang clergy. 
(Arnold, Peter, and Henrv^have been proclaimed Protestants 

sm of the worldly aspects 
of clerical life which was widely shared and had its more con- 
servative manifestation m the life and teachmgs of Bernard. 




The Manichffiism of the later Roman Empire, of which 
Augustine was once an adherent (ante, pp. 107, 176), seems 
never absolutely to have died out in the West. It was stimu- 
lated by the accession of Paulicians and Bogomiles (ante, p. 235} 
whom the persecutmg policy of the Eastern Emperors drove 
from Bulgaria, and by the new intercourse with the East fos- 
tered by the Crusades. The result was a new Manichfieism. 
Its adherents were called Cathari, as the " Pure,*' or Albigenses, 
from AIbi, one of their chief seats in southern France. With the 
ascetic and enthusiastic impulse which caused and accompanied 
the Crusades, the Cathari rose to great activity. Though 
to be found in many parts of Europe, their chief regions were 
southern France, nortiiem Italy, and nortiiem Spain. In 
southern France, Bernard himself labored in vain for their con- 
version. With the criticism of existing churchly conditions 
consequent upon the disastrous failure of the Second Crusade 
(ante, p. 242), they multiplied with great rapidity. In 1167 
they were able to hold a widely attended council in St. Felix 
de Caraman, near Toulouse ; and before the end of the century 
they had won the support of a large section, possibly a majority, 
of tiie population of southern France and the protection of its 
princes. In northern Italy they were very numerous. The 
Cathari in Florence alone in 1228 counted nearly one-third of 
the inhabitants. By the year 1200 they were an exceeding peril 
for the Roman Church. In the movement the ascetic spirit 
of the age foimd full expression, and criticism of the wealth 
and power of the church saw satisfaction in complete rejection 
of its clergy and claims. 

Like the ancient Manichses, the Cathari were dualists. The 
Bogomiles and many of the Cathari of It^ly held that the good 
God had two sons, Satanel and Christ — of whom the elder re- 
belled and became the leader of evil. The Cathari of France 
generally asserted two eternal powers, the one good, the other 
malign. All agreed that this visible world is the work of the 
evil power, in which souls, taken prisoners from the realm of 
the good God, are held in bondage. The greatest of sins, the 
original sin of Adam and Eve, is human reproduction, whereby 
the number of prison-houses is increased. Salvation is by re- 


pentance, asceticism, and the ^'consolation." This rite, like 
baptism in the church, works for^veness of sins and restora- 
tion to the kingdom of the good God. It is conferred by laying 
on of hands by one who has received it, together with placing 
the Gospel of John on the head of the candidate. It is the 
true apostolical succession. One who has received the ''con- 
solation " becomes perfect, a perfectus; but lest he lose the grace, 
he must henceforth eschew marriage, avoid oaths, war, posses- 
sion of property, and the eating of meat, milk, or ^gs, since they 
are the product of the sin of reproduction. TTbe "perfect," 
or, as they were called in Prance, the hons hommea — good men — 
were the real clergy of the Cathari, and there are notices of 
''bishops" and even of a "Pope" among them, though eicactly 
what the gradations in authority were it is impossible to say. 
By a convenient belief the majority of adherents, the credenH 
or "believers," were allowed to marry, hold property, and en- 
joy the good things of this world, even outwardly to conform 
to the Roman Church, assured that, should they receive the 
"consolation" before death, they would be saved. Those who 
died unconsoled would, in the opinion of most of the Cathari, 
be reincarnated in hiunan, or even animal, bodies till at last 
they, too, should be brought to salvation. The "believers" 
seem not always to have been fully initiated into the tenets of 
the system. 

The Cathari made great use of Scripture, which they trans- 
lated and in which they claimed to find their teachings. Some 
rejected the Old Testament entirely as the work of the evil 
power, others accepted the Psalms and the prophets. All be- 
lieved the New Testament to come from the good God. Since 
all things material are of evil, Christ could not have had a real 
body or died a real death. They therefore rejected the cross. 
The sacraments, with their material elements, were evil. The 
good Grod is dishonored by the erection of churches built and 
ornamented with material creations of the evil power. The 
services of the Cathari were simple. The Scriptures were 
read, especially the Gospel of John, as the most spiritual of 
all. A sermon was preitiched. The "believers" then knelt 
and adored the "perfect" as those indwelt with the divine 
Spirit. The "perfect," in turn, gave thdr blessmg. Only the 
Lord's Prayer was used in the service. A common meal, at 
which the bread was consecrated, was held in many places 


once a month, as a kind of Lord's Supper. The student of the 
movement will find in it extremely interesting survivals of 
ancient Christian rites and ceremonies, orthodox and heretical. 
In general, the '^perfect'' seem to have been men and women 
of uprightness, moral earnestness, and courageous steadfast- 
ness in persecution. Of their effectiveness in gaining the alle- 
giance of thousands, especially from the humbler waU^ of life, 
there can be no question. 

Unlike the Cathari, the Waldenses originated in no conscious 
hostility to the church and, had they been treated with skill, 
would probably never have separated from it. In 1176 Valdez, 
or Waldo, a rich merchant of Lyons, impressed by the song of 
a wandering minstrel recounting the sacrifices of St. Alexis, 
asked a master of theology "the best way to God." The clergy- 
man quoted that golden text of monasticism : "If thou wouldst 
be perfect, go, sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou 
shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me."^ Val- 
dez put this counsel literally into practice. Providing modestly 
for his wife and daughters, he gave the rest of his means to the 
poor. He determined to fulfil the directions of Christ to the 
Apostles' absolutely. He would wear the raiment there desig- 
nated. He would Kve by what was given him. To know his 
duty better he procured a translation of the New Testament. 
His action made a deep impression on his friends. Here, they 
thought, was true "apostolic poverty." By 1177 he was 
joined by others, men and women, and the little company 
undertook to carry fmlher Christ's directions by preaching 
repentance. They called themselves the "Poor in Spirit."' 
They now appealed to the Third Lateran Council, in 1179, for 
permission to preach. The council did not deem them heret- 
ical. It thought them ignorant laymen, and Pope Alexander 
III (1159-1181) refused consent. This led to decisive action. 
Valdez, who appears in what is known of his later history as 
determined, not to say obstinate, felt that this refusal was the 
voice of man against that of (rod. He and his associates con- 
tinued preaching. As disobedient, they were, therefore, ex- 
communicated, in 1184, by Pope Lucius III (1181-1185). 

These unwise acts of the papacy not only forced the Wal- 
denses out of the church against their will, they brought to 
them a considerable accession. The Humiliati were a company 

< MaU. 19». * MaU. 10. * Probably from MaU. 5*. 


of lowly folk who had associated themselves for a common life 
of penance in and about Milan. These, too, were forbidden 
to hold separate meetings, or to preach, by Alexander III, 
and were excommunicated in 1184 for disobedience. A ver}' 
considerable part of these Lombard Humiliati now joined the 
Waldenses, and came imder the control of Valdez. The early 
characteristics of the Waldenses now rapidly developed. ChidF 
of all was the principle that the Bible, and especially the New 
Testament, is the sole rule of belief and life. Yet they read it 
through thoroughly mediaeval spectacles. It was to them a 
book of law — of minute prescriptions, to be followed to the 
letter. Large portions were learned by heart. In accordance 
with what they believed to be its teachings they went about, 
two by two, preaching, clad in a simple woollen robe, bare- 
footed or wearing sandals, living wholly on the gifts of their 
hearers, fasting on Mondays, W«hiesdays, and Fridays, reject- 
ing oaths and all shedding of blood, and using no prayers but 
the Lord's and a form of grace at table. They heard confes- 
sions, observed the Lord's Supper together, and ordained their 
members as a ministry. As unbiblical, they rejected masses 
and prayers for the dead, and denied purgatory. They held 
the sacraments invalid if dispensed by unworthy priests. They 
believed prayer in secret more effective than in church. They 
defended lay preaching by men and women. They had 
bishops, priests, and deacons, and a head, or rector, of the 
society. The first was Valdez himself; later appointment 
was by election. Besides this inner circle, the society proper, 
they soon developed a body of sympathizers, "friends" or "be- 
lievers," from whom the society was recruited, but who re- 
mained outwardly in communion with the Roman Church. 
Most of this development seems to have been inmiediately sub- 
sequent to their exconununication in 1184. Much of it was 
due to Catharite example, yet ihey opposed the Cathari and 
justiy regarded themselves as widely different. 

Certain conflicts of opinion, and a feeling that the govern- 
ment of Valdez was arbitrary, led to the secession of the Lom- 
bard branch by 1210 — a breach that attempts at reunion in 
1218, after Valdez's death, failed to heal. The two bodies 
remained estranged. The able Pope, Innocent III (1198-1216), 
improved these disputes by countenancing in 1208 the organ- 
ization of pauperes catholici, which allowed many of the prao 


tices of the Waldenses under strict churchly oversight. Con- 
siderable numbers were thus won back to the church. Never- 
theless, the Waldensian body spread. Waldenses were to be 
found in northern Spain, in Austria and Germany, as well as 
in their original homes. They were gradually repressed, till 
their chief seat came to be the Alpine valleys southwest of 
Turin, where they are still to be found. At the Reformation 
they readily accepted its principles, and became fully Protes- 
tant. Under modem religious freedom they are laboring with 
success in many parts of Italy. Their story is one of heroic 
endurance of persecution — a most honorable history — and they 
are the only mediaeval sect which still survives, though with 
wide modification of their original ideals and methods. 

By the opening of the thirteenth century the situation of the 
Roman Church in southern France, northern Italy, and north- 
em Spain was dubious. Missionary efforts to convert Cathari 
and Waldenses had largely failed. It was felt that sharper 
measures were needed. A crusade was ordered as early as 
1181 by Pope Alexander III (1159-1 181), against the viscount 
of B&ders as a supporter of the Cathari, but it accomplished 
little. Under Innocent III (1198-1216) the storm broke. 
After having vainly tried missionary efforts, the murder of the 
papal legate, Peter of Castelnau, in 1208, induced Innocent to . 
proclaim a crusade against the heretics of southern France. ^ 
The attack was agreeable to the French monarchy, which had 
found the nobles of the region too independent vassals. These 
combined interests of Pope and King led to twenty years of 
destructive warfare (1209-1229), in which the power of the 
southern nobles was shattered and cities and provinces devas- 
tated. The defenders of the Cathari were rendered impo- 
tent or compelled to join in their extermination. 

The termination of the stmggle was followed by a synod of 
much importance held in Toulouse in 1229. The Cathiari and 
Waldenses had made much use of the Bible. The synod, there- 
fore, forbad the laity to possess the Scriptures, except the 
psalter and such portions as are contained in the breviary, 
and especially denounced all translations. The decree was, 
indeed, local, but similar considerations led to like prohibitions 
in Spain and elsewhere. No universal denial of Bible reading 
by tiie laity was issued during the Middle Ages. 

A second act of significance which nutrked the synod of Tou- 


louse was the beginning of a systematic inquisition. The ques- 
tion of the punidiment of heretics had been undetermincKl in 
the earlier Middle Ages. There had been a good many instances 
of death, generally by fire, at the hands of rulers, churchmen, 
or the mob, but ecclesiastics of high standing had opposed. 
The identification of the Cathari with the Manichaeans, against 
whom the later Roman Emperors had denounced thenSeath 
penalty, gave such punishment the sanction of Roman law. 
Peter II of Aragon, in 1197, ordered the execution of heretics 
by fire. Pope Innocent III (1198-1216) held that heresy, as 
treason against God, was of even greater heinousness dian 
treason against a King. The investigation of heresy was not 
as yet systematized. That task the synod of Toulouse imder- 
took. Its work was speedily perfected by Pope Gregory IX 
(1227-1241), who intrusted the discovery of heresy to inquisi- 
tors chosen chiefly from the Dominican order — a body formed 
with very different aims. As speedily developed, the inquisi- 
tion became a most formidable organ. Its proceedings were 
secret, the names of his accusers were not given to the prisoner, 
who, by a bull of Innocent IV, in 1252, was liable to torture. 
The confiscation of the convict's property was one of its most 
odious and economically destructive features, and, as these 
spoils were shared by the lay authorities, this feature undoubt- 
edly kept the fires of persecution burning where otherwise they 
would have died out. Yet, thanks to the inquisition, and other 
more praiseworthy means shortly to be described, the Cathari 
were utterly rooted out in the course of a little more than a 
century, and the Waldenses greatly repressed. This earlier 
success accounts, in large measure, for the tenacity with which 
the Roman Church dung to the inquisition in the Reformation 



The Cathari and Waldenses profoundly affected the medi- 
aeval church. Out of an attempt to meet them by preachers 
of equal devotion, asceticism, and zeal, and of greater learning, 
grew the order of the Dominicans. In the same atmosphere 
of "apostolic poverty" and literal fulfilment of the commands 
of ^^^^} ^. ^Wch the Waldenses flourished, the Franciscans 
had their birth. In these two orders mediseval monastidsm 


had its noblest exemplification. In Francis of Assisi mediaeval 
piety had its highest and most inspiring representative. 

Dominic was a native of Calaroga, in Castile, and was bom 
m 1170. A brilliant student in Palencia, and a youth of deep 
religious spirit, he became a canon of Osma, about ninety 
miles fprtheast of Madrid. From 1201 he enjoyed the friend- 
ship of a kindred spirit, Diego of Acevedo, the bishop of Osma. 
The two journeyed on poUtical business in 1203 through south- 
em France, where the Cathari were then in the height of their 
power. There they found the Roman missionaries treated 
with contempt. At a meeting with these missionary leaders 
in Montpellier, in 1204, Diego urged a thorough reform of 
method. Only by missionaries as self-denying, as studious of 
''apostolic poverty," and as eager to preach as the "perfect" 
of the Cathari, could these wanderers be won back to the Roman 
fold. Moved by the bishop's exhortation, the missionaries 
endeavored to put his advice into practice. A nunnery, chiefly 
for converted Catharite women, was established in 1206, in 
Prouille, not far from Toulouse. Thus far Diego seems to have 
been the leader, but he had to return to his diocese, and died 
in 1207. Thenceforward Dominic carried on the work. The 
storm of the great anti-Cathari war made it most discouraging. 
Dominic was tempted by the offer of bishoprics to leave so 
thankless a task, but he persisted. He would take the Apostle 
Paul as his model. He would win the people by preatching. 
Gradually he gathered like-minded men about him. In 1215 
friends presented them a house in Toulouse. The same year 
Dominic visited the Fourth Lateran Council in Rome, sedking 
papal approval for a new order. It was refused, though his 
efforts were commended, and he now adopted the so-called 
''Rule" of St. Augustine. Reoognition amounting to the 
practical establishment of the order was, however, obtained 
from Pope Honorius HI (1216-1227) in 1216. 

Even in 1217, when the new association numbered but a 
few, Dominic det^mined to send his preachers widely. With 
a view to influoicing future lead^s, he directed them first to 
the great oeiitres of educatioot, Paris, Rome, and Bologna. 
The order grew with amazing rapidity. Its first general chap- 
ter was held in Bologna in 1220. Here, under the influence of 
Franciscan example, it adopted the principle of mendicancy — 
the members should beg even their daily food. By this chap- 


ter, or that of the following year, the constitution of the "Or- 
der of Preachers," or Dominicans, as they were popularly called, 
was developed. At the head was a ^'master-general," chosen 
by the general chapter, originally for life. Tlie field was di- 
vided into "provinces," each in charge of a "provincial prior," 
elected for a four-year term by the provincial chapter. Each 
monastery chose a "prior," also for four years. The general 
chapter included the "master-general," the "provincial 
priors," and an elected delegate from each province. The 
system was one, therefore, that combined ingeniously authority 
and representative government. It embniml monasteries for 
men, and nunneries for women, though the latter were not to 
preach, but ultimately developed large teaching activities. 

Dominic died in 1221. The order then numbered sixty 
houses, divided among the eight provinces of Provence, Tou- 
louse, France, Lombardy, Rome, Spain, Germany, and Eng- 
land, and for years thereafter it increased rapidly. Always 
zealous for learning, it empha^zed preaching and teaching, 
sought work especidly in university towns, and soon became 
widely represented on the university faculties. Albertus Mag- 
nus and Thomas Aquinas, the theologians ; Eckhart and Tauler, 
the mystics; Savonarola, the reformer, are but a few of the 
great names that adorn the catalogue of Dominicans. Their 
learning led to their employment as inquisitors — a use that 
formed no part of Dominic's ideal. The legends which represent 
him as an inquisitor are baseless. He would win men, as did 
his example, Paul, by preaching. To achieve that result he 
would undergo whatever sacrifice or asceticism that would 
make his preachers acceptable to those whom they sought. 
Yet it is evident that lowly, self-sacrificing and democratic as 
were Dominic's aims, the high intellectualism of his order 
tended to give it a relatively aristocratic flavor. It represented, 
however, an emphasis on work for others, such as had ap- 
peared in the Waldenses. Its ideal was not contemplaticm 
apart from the world, but access to men in their needs. 

Great as was the honor paid to Dominic and the Dominicans, 
it was exceeded by the popular homage given to the Francis- 
cans, and especially to their foimder. Tbe austere preacher, 
of blameless youth, planning how he may best reach men, and 
adopting poverty as a means to that end, is not so winsome a 
figure as that of the gay, careless young nian who sacrifices all 


for Christ and his fellows, and adopts poverty not as a recom- 
mendation of his message, but as the only means of being like 
his Master. In Francis of Assisi is to be seen not merely the 
greatest of mediaeval saints, but one, who through his absolute 
sincerity of desire to imitate Christ in all things humanly pos- 
sible, belongs to all ages and to the church universal. 

Giovanni Bemadone was bom in 1181 or 1182, the son of a 
doth merchant of Assisi, in central Italy. To the boy the 
nickname Francesco — ^Francis — ^was given, and soon sup- 
planted that bestowed on him in baptism. His father, a seri- 
ous man of business, was little pleased to see the son leading 
in the mischief and revelry of his young companions. A 
year's experiences as a prisoner of war in Perugia, following a 
defeat in which he had fought on the side of the conmion people 
of Assisi, against the nobles, wrought no change in his life. A 
serious illness began to develop another side of his character. 
He joined a military expedition to Apulia, but withdrew, fcir 
what reason is not evident. His conversion was a gradual proc- 
ess. "When I was yet in my sins it did seem to me too bitter 
to look upon the lepers, but the Lord Himself did lead me 
among them, and I had compassion upon them. When I left 
them, that which had seemed to me bitter had become sweet and 
easy.''^ This note of Christ-like compassion was that to 
which Francis's renewed nature first responded. On a pil- 
grimage to Rome he thought he heard the divine conunand to 
restore the fallen house of God. Taking it literally, he sold 
cloth from his father's warehouse to rebuild the ruined chiurch 
of St. Damian, near Assisi. Francis's father, thoroughly dis- 
gusted with his unbusinesslike ways, now took him before the 
bishop to be disinherited; but IVancis declared that he had 
henc^orth no father but the Father in heaven. This event 
was probably in 1206 or 1207. 

For the next two years Francis wandered in and about Assisi, 
aiding the unfortunate, and restoring diurches, of which his 
favorite was the Portiuncula, in the plain outside the town. 
There, in 1209, the words of Christ to the Apostles,' read in the 
service, came to him, as they had to Valdez, as a trumpet-call 
to action. He would preach repentance and the kingdom of 

1 Testament of Francia. Highly Oluminative as to his spirit and pur- 
poses. Robinaon, Readings, 1 : 392-^95. 
« Matt. 10»-". 


God| without money, in the plainest of garments, eating what 
might be set before him. He would imitate Christ and obey 
Christ's commands, in absolute poverty, in Christ-like love, and 
in humbled deference to the priests as His representatives. 
''The Most High Hinvself revealed to me that I ought to live 
according to the model of the holy Gospel.'' Like-minded as- 
sociates gathered about him. For them he drafted a ''Rule,'' 
composed of little besides selections from Chrbt's commands, 
and with it, accompanied by eleven or twelve companions, he 
applied to Pope Innocent III for approval. It was practioally 
the same request that Valdez had preferred in vain in 1179. 
But Innocent was now trying to win some of the Waldenses for 
the church, and Francis was not refused. The associates now 
called themselves the Penitents of Assisi, a name for which, by 
1216, Francis had substituted that of the Minor, or Humbler, 
Brethren, by which they were henceforth to be known. 

Francis's association was a union of imitators of Christ, bound 
together by love and practising the utmost poverty, since only 
thus, he believed, could the world be denied and Christ really 
followed. Two by two, they went about preaching repentance, 
singing much, aiding the peasants in their work, caring for the 
lepers and outcasts. "Let those who know no trade learn one, 
but not for the purpose of receiving the price of their toil, but 
for their good example and to flee idleness. And when we are 
not given the price of our work, let us resort to the table of the 
Lord, begging our bread from door to door."^ Soon wide- 
reaching missionary plans were formed, which the rapid growth 
of the association made possible of attempting. Francis him- 
self, prevented by illness from reaching the Mohammedans 
through Spain, went to Egypt in 1219, in the wake of a crusading 
expedition, and actually preached before the Sultan. 

Francis himself was little of an organizer. The free associa- 
tion was increasing enormously. What were adequate rules 
for a handful of like-minded brethren were soon insufficient for 
a body numbering several thousands. Change would have 
come in any event. It was hastened, however, by the organiz- 
ing talents of Cardinal Ugolino of Ostia, the later Pope Gr^ 
ory IX (1227-1241), who had befriended Francis, and whose 
appointment Francis secured as "protector" of the society. 
Under Ugolino's influence, and that of Brother Elias of Cortona, 

* Testament. 


the traDsfonnation of the association into a full monastic order 
went rapidly forward. From the time of Francis's absence in 
Egypt and Syria in 1219 and 1220, his real leadership ceased. 
A new rule was adopted in 1221, and a third in 1223. In the 
latter, emphasis was no longer laid on preaching, and begging 
was established as the normal, not the exceptional, practice* 
Already, in 1219, provinces had been established, each in charge 
of a ^'minister." Papal directions, in 1220, had prescribed obe- 
dience to the order's officers, established a novitiate, a fixed 
costume, and irrevocable vows. 

Probably most of these changes were inevitable. They were 
unquestionably a grief to Francb, though whether so deeply as 
has often been contended is doubtful. He was always deferen* 
tial to ecclesiastical authority, and seems to have r^arded 
these modifications more with regret than with actual opposi- 
tion. He withdrew increasingly from the world. He was much 
in prayer and singing. His love of nature, in which he was far 
in advance of his age, was never more manifest. Feeble in 
body, he longed to be present with Christ. He bore what 
men believed to be the reproduction of Christ's wounds. How 
they may have. been received b an unsolved, and perhaps 
insoluble, problem. On October 3, 1226, he died in the chiu*ch 
of Portiuncula. Two years later he was proclaimed a saint by 
Pope Gregory IX. Few men in Christian history have more 
richly deserved the title. 

In organization, by Francis's death, the Franciscans were 
like the Dominicans. At the head stood a ^'minister general" 
chosen for twelve years. Over each "province" was a "pro- 
vincial minister," and over each group a "custos," for, unlike 
the Dominicans, the Franciscans did not at first possess houses. 
As with the Dominicans, provincial and general chapters were 
held by which officers were chosen and legislation achieved. 
Like the Dominicans, also, the Franciscans had almost from 
the first, their feminine branch — ^the so-called "second order." 
That of the Franciscans was instituted by Francis himself, in 
1212, through his friend and disciple, Clara Sciffi of Assbi 
(1194-1253). The growth of the Franciscans was extremely 
rapid, and though they soon coimted many distinguished 
scholars, they were always more democratic, more the order of 
the poor, than the Dominicans. 

The Dominicans and Franciscans^ known respectively as 


Black Friars and Gray Friars in England, soon exercised an 
almost unbounded popular influence. Unlike the older orders, 
they labored primarily in the cities. There can be no doubt 
that their work resulted in a great strengthening of religion 
among the laity. At the same time they undermined the in- 
fluence of the bishops and ordinary clergy, since they were 
privileged to preach and absolve anywhere. They thus 
strengthened the power of the papacy by diminishing that of 
the ordinary clergy. One chief influence upon the laity was 
the development of the "Tertiaries" or "third orders" — a 
phenomenon which first appeared in connection with the 
Franciscans, though the tradition which connects it with 
Francis himself is probably basdess. The ''third order" per- 
mitted men and women, still engaged in ordinary occupations, 
to live a semi-monastic life of fasting, prayer, worship, and be- 
nevolence. A conspicuous illustration is St. Elizabeth of Thu- 
ringia (1207-1231). Ultimately all the mendicant orders de- 
veloped Tertiaries. As time went on the system tended to 
become an almost complete monasticism, from which the mar- 
ried were excluded. It must be regarded as a very successful 
attempt to meet the religious ideals of an age which r^aided 
the monastic as the true Christian life. 

The piety of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries found many 
expressions other than through the Dominicans and Francis- 
cans. One important manifestation, especially in the Nether- 
lands, Germany, and France, was through the Beguines — associ- 
ations of women living in semi-monastic fashion, but not bound 
by irrevocable vows. They seem to have received their name 
from those hostile to them in memory of the preacher of li^e, 
Lambert le B^gue, who was r^arded as having been a heretic; 
and the Beguine movement undoubtedly often sheltered anti- 
churchly sympathizers. It was in the main orthodox, however^ 
and spread widely, existing in the Netherlands to the present 
Its loose organization made effective discipline difficult, and^ 
in general, its course was one of deterioration. A parallel, 
though less popular, system of men's associations was that of 
the Beghards. 

The divisions in the Franciscan order, which had appeared 
in Francis's lifetime between those who would emphasize a 
simple life of Christ-like poverty and those who valued numbers, 
power, and influence, were but intensified with his death. The 



stricter party found a leader in Brother Leo^ the looser in Elias 
of Cortona. The papal policy favored the looser^ since ecdesi^ 
astical politics would be advanced by the growth and con- 
solidation of the order along the lines of earlier monastidsuL 
The quarrel became increasingly embittered. The use of gifts 
and biiildings was secured by the laxer party on the daun that 
they were held not by the order itself but by "friends." Pope 
Innocent IV (1243-1254), in 1245, allowed such use, with the 
reservation that it was the property of the Roman Church, not 
of the order. These tendencies the stricter party vigorously 
opposed. But that party itself fell into dubious ordiodoxy. 
Joachim of Floris, in extreme southern Italy (1145?-1202), a 
Cistercian abbot who had been reputed a prophet, had divided 
the history of the world into three ages, those of the Father, the 
Son, and the Holy Spirit. That of the Spirit was to come in 
full power in 1260. It was to be an age of men who understood 
"the eternal Gospel'* — ^not a new Gospel, but the old, spiritu- 
ally interpreted. Its form of life was to be monastic. In the 
sixth decade of the thirteenth century many of the stricter 
Franciscans adopted these views and were persecuted not 
merely by the laxer element, but by the moderates, who ob- 
tained leadership when Bonaventura was chosen general min- 
ister in 1257. These stricter friars of prophetic faith were 
nicknamed "Spirituals." Under Pope John XXII (1316-1334) 
some of the party were burned by the inquisition in 1318. 
During his papacy a further quarrel arose as to whether the 
poverty of Christ and the Apostles was complete. John XXII 
decided in 1322 in favor of the laxer view, and imprisoned the 
great English schoolman, William of Occam, and other asserters 
of Christ's absolute poverty. The quarrel was irreconcilable, 
and finally Pope Leo X (1513-1521) formally recognized the 
division of the Franciscans in 1517 into "Observant," or strict, 
and "Conventual," or loose sections, each with its distinct 
officers and general chapters. 


The educational work of cathedral and monastic schools has 
already been noted in connection with Bede, Alcuin, and Hra- 
banus Maurus {ante, pp. 200, 207, 210). It was long simply 
imitative and reproductive of the teaching of the Church Fa- 


thers, especially of Augustine and Gregory the Great. Save in 
the case of John Scotus Erigena {ante, p. 210), it showed little 
that was original. Schook, however, increased, especially in 
France in the eleventh century, and with their multiplication 
came an application of the methods of logic, or of dialectics, 
to the discussion of theological problems which resulted in 
fresh and fertile intellectual development. Since it originated 
in the schools, the movement was known as "Scholasticism/' 
Most of the knowledge of dialectic method was at first de- 
rived from scanty translations of portions of Aristotle's writ- 
ings and of Porphyry's Isagoge, both the work of Boetius 

The development of Scholasticism was inaugurated and ac- 
companied by a discussion as to the nature of "universals" 
— ^that is as to the existence of genera and species — a debate 
occasioned by Porphyry's Isagoge. Three positions might be 
taken. The extreme "realists," following Platonic influences 
(ante, p. 3), asserted that universals existed apart from and 
antecedent to the individual objects — ante rem, i. e., the genus 
man was anterior to and determinative of the individual man. 
The moderate "realists," under the guidance of Aristotle (ante, 
p. 4), taught that universals existed only in connection with 
individual objects — in re. The "nominalists," following Stoic 
precedent, hcJd that universals were only abstract names for 
the resemblances of individuals, and had no other existence 
than in thought — post rem. The only real existence for them 
was the individual object. Thb quarrel between "realism" 
and "nominalism" continued throughout the scholastic period 
and profoimdly influenced its theological conclusions. 

The first considerable scholastic controversy was a renewal 
of the dispute once held between Paschasius Radbertus and 
Ratramnus as to the nature of Christ's presence in the Lord's 
Supper (ante, p. 211). Berengar (?'10^), bead of the cathe- 
dral sdiool in Tours about 1049, attacked the prevalent con- 
ception that the elements are changed as to substance into the 
actual body and blood of Christ. His position was essentially 
nominalist. Berengar was immediatdy opposed by Lanfiranc 
( ?-1089), then prior of the monastery of Bee in Normandy, 
and to be WUliam the Conqueror's celebrated archbishop of 
Canterbury. Berengar was condemned at the Roman synod of 
1050, He conformed and was restored in 1059. About ten 



years later he reasserted his opinions, but once more withdrew 
them in 1079, only to declare them again. The discussion 
showed that the view soon to be known as "transubstanti- 
ation'' had become the dominant opinion in Latin Christen- 
dom. It was to have full approval at the Fourth Lateran 
Council in 1215, where it was given the highest dogmatic 
standing. ^ 

Berengar's dialectic methods were emj^loyed, jpth very 
dissimilar results, by Anselm, who has often been called the 
Father of the Schoolmen. Bom in Aosta in northern Italy 
about 1033, Anselm became a monk under Lanfranc in Bee, 
whom he succeeded as prior. Under him the school of Bee 
attained great distinction. In 1093 he became archbishop of 
Canterbury — Shaving a stormy episcopate by reason of his 
Hildebrandian principles. He died in office in 1109. As a 
theologian, Anselm was an extreme realist, and was more- 
over convinced of the full capacity of a proi)er dialectic to 
prove the truths of theology. His famous ontological demon- 
stration of the existence of God is at once realistic and Neo- 
Platonic. As set fortii in his Proslogion, God is the greatest 
of all beings. He must exist in reahty as well as in thought, 
for if He existed in thought only, a yet greater being, existing 
in reality as well as in thought, could be conceived; which is 
impossible. This proof, which aroused the opposition of 
Gaunilo, a monk of Marmoutiers, in Anselm's lifetime, seems 
to most a play on words, though its permanent validity has 
not lacked defenders. 

Anselm next directed his attention to Roscelin, a canon of 
Compidgne, who, under nominalistic influence, had asserted 
that either the Father, Son, and Spirit are identical or are three 
Gods. At a synod held in Soissons in 1092 Roscelin was com- 
pelled to abjure tritheism. Anselm now declared that nomi- 
nalism was essentially heretical, and that view was the preva- 
lent one for the next two centuries. 

Anselm's most influential contribution to theology was his 
discussion of the atonement in his Cur Deu^homo, the ablest 
treatment that had yet appeared. Anselm totally rejected 
any thought, such as the early church had entertained, of a 
ransom paid to the devil. Man, by sin, has done dishonor to 
God. His debt is to Grod alone. Anselm's view is feudal. 
God's nature demands satisfaction. Man^ who owes obedi- 


ence at all times, has nothing wherewith to make good past 
disobedience. Yet, if satisfaction is to be made at all, it can 
be rendered only by one who shares human nature, who is 
Himself man, and yet as God has something of infinite value 
to offer. Such a being is the God-man. Not only is His sacri- 
fice a satisfaction, it deserves a reward. That reward is the 
eternal blessedness of His brethren. Anselm's widely influen- 
tial theory rests ultimately on the realistic conviction that 
there is such an objective existence as humanity which Christ 
could assmne. 

Anselm was of devout spirit, fully convinced that dialectic 
explanation could but buttress the doctrines of the church. 
''I believe, that I may understand,'' is a motto that expresses 
his attitude. The same high realist position was maintained 
by William of Champeaux (1070 ?-1121), who brought the school 
of St. Victor, near Paris, into great repute, and died as bishop 
of Chalons. 

The ablest use of the dialectic method in the twelfth century 
was made by Abelard (1079-1142), a man of irritating method, 
vanity, and critical spirit, but by no means of irreUgion. Bom 
in Pallet, in Brittany, he studied under Roscelin and William 
of Champeaux, both of whom he opposed and undoubtedly far 
surpassed in ability. On the vexed question of the universals 
he took a position intermediate between the nominalism of one 
teacher and the realism of the other, though leaning rather to 
the nominalist side. Only individuals exist, but genera and 
species are more than names. Hence he is usually called a 
"conceptualist/^ though he gave universals greater value than 
mere mental conceptions. 

Abelard's life was stormy. By the age of twenty-two he 
was teaching with great following in Melun, near Paris. By 
1115 he was a canon of Notre Dame, with a following in Paris 
such as no lecturer had yet enjoyed. He fell in love with 
Heloise — ^the niece of his fellow canon, Fulbert — ^a woman of 
singular devotion of nature. With her he entered into a secret 
marriage. The enraged uncle, believing his niece deceived, 
revenged himself by having Abelard emasculated, and thus 
barred from clerical advancement. Abelard now became a 
monk. To teach was his breath of life, however, and he soon 
resumed lecturing. A reply to Roscelin's tritheism leaned so 
far in the other direction that his enemies charged him with 


SabeUianism, and his views were condemned at a synod in 
Soissons in 1121. His criticisms of the traditional career of 
St. Dems made the monastery of St. Denis an uncomfortable 
place of abode, and he now sought a hermit's life. Students 
gathered about him and foimded a little settlement which he 
called the Paraclete. His criticisms had aroused^ however^ the 
hostility of that most powerful religious leader of the age, the 
orthodox traditionalist Bernard, and he now sought refuge as 
abbot of the rough monastery in Rhuys, in remote Brittany. 
Yet he left this retreat to lecture for a while in Paris, and en- 
gaged in a correspondence with Heloise, who had become the 
head of a little nunnery at the Paraclete, which is the most in- 
teresting record of affection — especially on the part of Heloise 
— ^which the Middle Ages has preserved. Bernard procured 
his condemnation at the synod of Sens in 1141, and die rejec- 
tion of his appeal by Pope Innocent II. Abelard was now a 
broken man. He made submission and found a friend in Peter, 
the abbot of Cluny. In 1142 he died in one of the monasteries 
under Cluny jurisdiction. 

Abelard's spirit was essentially critical. Without rejecting 
the Fathers or the creeds, he held that all should be subjected 
to philosophical examination, and not lightly believed. His 
work. Sic et rum — Yes and No — setting against each other 
contrary passages from the Fathers on the great doctrines, 
without attempt at harmony or explanation, might well arouse 
a feeling that he was a sower of doubts. His doctrine of the 
Trinity was almost Sabellian. His teaching that man has in- 
herited not guilt but punishment from Adam was contrary to 
the Augustinian tradition. His ethical theory that good and 
evil inhere in the intention rather than in the act, disagreed 
with current feeling. His belief that the philosophers of an- 
tiquity were sharers of divine revelation, however consonant 
with ancient Christian opinion, was not that of his age. Nor 
was Abelard less individual, though decidedly modem, in his 
conception of the atonement. Like Anselm, he rejected all 
ransom to the devil; but he repudiated Anselm's doctrine of 
satisfaction no less energetically. In Abelard's view the in- 
carnation and death of Christ are the highest expression of 
God's love to men, the effect of which is to awaken love in us. 
Abelard, though open to much criticism from the standpoint 
of hb age, was a profoundly stimulating spirit. His direct fol- 


lowers were few, but his indirect influence was great, and the 
impulse given by him to the dialectic ipethod of theological 
inquiry far-reaclung. 

A combination of a moderate use of the dialectic method with 
intense Neo-Platonic mysticism is to be seen in the work of 
Hugo of St. Victor (1097?-1141). A German by birth, his life 
^as uneventful. About 1115 he entered the monastery of St. 
Victor, near Paris, where he rose to be head of its school. A 
quiet, modest man, of prof oimd learning and piety, his influence 
was remarkable. He enjoyed the intimate friendship of Ber- 
nard; Probably his most significant works were his conunen- 
tary on the Celestial Hierarchy of Pseudo-Dionysius the Are- 
opagite (ante, p. 171) and his treatise On the Mysteries qf the 
Faiih. In true mystic fashion he pictured spiritual progress 
as in three stages — cogitation, the formation of sense-concepts; 
meditation, their inteUectual investigation; contemplation, the 
intuitive penetration into their inner meaning. This last at- 
tainment is the true mystical vision of (rod, and the compre- 
hension of all things in Him. 

No original genius, like Abelard and Hugo, but a man of 
great intellectual service to his own age, and held in honor till 
the Reformation, was Peter Lombard, ''the Master of the 
Sentences" (?-1160?). Bom in humble circumstances in 
northern Italy, Peter studied in Bologna and Paris, in part at 
least*aided by the generosity of Bernard. In Paris he became 
ultiniately teacher of theology in the school of Notre Dame, 
and near the close of his life, in 1159, bishop of the Parisian 
see. Whether he was ever a pupil of Abelard is uncertain; 
but he was evidently greatly influenced by Abelard's works. 
Under Hugo of St. Victor he certainly studied, and owed that 
teacher much. Between 1147 and 1150 he wrote the work on 
which his fame rests — ^the Four Books of Sentences. After the 
well-accustomed fashion, he gathered citations from the creeds 
and the Fathers on the several Christian doctrines. What was 
fresh was that he proceeded to explain and interpret them by 
the dialectic method, with great moderation and good sense, 
and with constant reference to the opinions of his contonpo- 
raries. He showed the influence of Abelard constantly, though 
critical of that thinker's extremer positions. He was even more 
indebted to Hugo of St. Victor. Under the four divisions, (Jod, 
Created Beings, Salvation, Sacraments and the Last Things, 


he discussed the whole round of theology. The result was a 
handbook which so fully met the needs of the age that it 
remained till the Reformation the main basis of theological 

With the middle of the twelfth century the first period of 
Scholasticism was over. The schools continued in increasing 
activity^ but no creative geniuses appeared. The last half of 
the century was distinguished, however, by the introduction 
to the West, which had thus far had little of Aristotle, of the 
greater part of his works and of much Greek philosophy besides, 
by the Jews of Spain and southern France, who, in ^u*n, derived 
them from the Arabs. The Latin conquest of Constantinople, 
in 1204 (ante, p. 243), led ultimately to direct translations from 
the originab. The result was to be a new and greater out- 
burst of scholastic activity in the thirteenth century. 


Cathedral and monastic schools were never more flourishing 
than in the twelfth century. Teachers were multiplying and 
gathering about them students. Anselm, Abelard, William of 
Champeaux, Hugo of St. Victor, and Peter Lombard were sim- 
ply the most eminent of a host. Students flocked to them in 
large numbers from all parts of Europe. Paris and Oxford 
were famed for theology, Bologna for church and civil law, 
Salerno for medicine. Under these circumstances the univer- 
sities developed in a manner which it is difficult exactly to date. 
The change which they implied was not the establishment of 
teaching where none had been before, but the association of 
students and teachers into a collective body, after the fashion 
of a trade guild, primarily for protection and good order, but 
also for more efficient management and the regulation of ad- 
mission to the teaching profession. In its educational capacity 
such a group was often called a shidium generale. The begin- 
nings of university organization— which must be distinguished 
from the commencement of teaching — ^may be placed about 
the year 1200. 

By the dose of the twelfth century there were in Bologna 
two "universities," or mutual protective associations of stu- 
dents. The organization in Paris became normal, however, 
for northern Europe. Its earliest rules date from about 1208, 


and its recognition as a I^al corporation from a letter of Pope 
Innocent III of about 1211. In Paris there was a single ''uni- 
versity/' originally formed by the union of the .cathedral school 
and the more private schools of the city, and divided for in- 
struction into four faculties — one preparatory, that of the 
''arts/' in which the trivium (granunar, rhetoric, and logic) 
and the quadrivium (astronomy, arithmetic, geometry, and 
music) were taught; and the three higher faculties of theology , 
canon law, and medicine. Over each faculty a dean presided. 
Besides this educational organization students and professors 
were also grouped, for mutual aid, in "nations,'' each headed 
by a proctor. These varied in number in the several institu- 
tions. In Paris they were four — ^the French, the Picards, the 
Normans, and the English. 

Teaching was principally by lecture and by constant debate, 
a method which, whatever its shortcomings, rendered the stu- 
dent ready master of his knowledge, and brought talent to 
light. The first degree, that of bachelor, was similar to an 
admission to apprenticeship in a guild. The second degree, 
that of master or doctor, resembling the master workman in 
a guild, carried with it full authority to teach in the institution 
where it was conferred, and soon, for the graduates of the 
larger universities, to teach anywhere. The use of Latin as 
the sole language of the classroom made possible the assembly 
of students from all parts of Europe, and they flocked to the 
more famous universities in immense numbers. 

The needs of these students, many of whom were of extreme 
poverty, early aroused the interest of benefactors. One of 
the most influential and oldest foundations thus established 
was that formed in Paris by Robert de Sorbon (1201-1274) in 
1252. It provided a home and special teaching for poor stu- 
dents, under the guidance of "fellows" of the house. Such 
establishments, soon known as "colleges," rapidly multiplied, 
and gave shelter to the great majority of students, rich and 
poor. The system still survives in the English universities. 
So prominently was the Sorbonne identified with theological 
instruction that its name came to be popularly, though errone- 
ously, attached to the faculty of theology in Paris. That uni- 
versity ranked till the Reformation as the leader of Europe, 
especially in the theological studies. 

Universities, many of which were short-lived, sprang up 


with great rapidity. In general, they were regarded as eccle- 
siastical — au^orization by the Pope being almost essential. 
The most conspicuous early lay approval was that of Naples, 
in 1225, by the Emperor IVederick II. 


The recovery of the whole of Aristotle, the rise of the uni- 
versities, and ^e devotion of the mendicant orders to learning, 
ushered in a new period of Scholasticism in the thirteenth cen- 
tury, and marked the highest intellectual achievement of the 
Middle Ages. The movement toward this " modern theology,*' 
as it was called, was not without much opposition, especially 
from traditionalists and adherents to the Augustinian Neo- 
Platonic development. Aristotle met much hostility. A 
series of great thinkers, all from the mendicant orders, made 
his victory secure. Yet even they, while relying primarily on 
Aristotle, made much use of Plato as reflected in Augustine 
and the Pseudo-Dionysius {aTtte, pp. 171, 266). 

To Alexander of Hales (?-1245), an Englishman and ulti- 
mately a Franciscan, who taught in Paris, was due the treat- 
ment of theology in the light of the whole of Aristotle. Yet 
to him the Scripture is the only final truth. With this new 
period of Scholasticism a broader range of intellectual interest 
is apparent than in the earlier, though the old problem between 
realism and nominalism continued its pre-eminence. Alex- 
ander was a moderate realist. Universals exist arUe rem in 
the mind of God, in re in the things themselves, and post rem 
in our imderstanding. In this he was followed by Albertus 
Magnus and Aquinas. 

^bertus Magnus (1206?-1280), a German and a Dominican, 
studied in Padua, and taught in many places in Germany, 
but principally in Cologne. He served as provincial prior for 
his order, and was, for a few years, bishop of Regensburg. The 
most learned man of his age, his knowledge of science was really 
remarkable. His acquaintance not merely with Aristotle, but 
with the comments of Arabian scholars, was profounder than 
that of Alexander of Hales. He was, however, a great com- 
piler and commentator rather than an original theological 
genius. That which he taught was brought to far clearer ex- 
pression by his pupil, Thomas Aquinas. 


Thomas Aquinas (1225?-1274) was a son of Landulf, count 
of Aquino, a small town about half-way between Rome and 
Naples. Connected with the German imperial house of Hohen- 
staufen and with that of Tancred, the Norman Crusader, it 
was against the wishes of his parents that Thomas entered the 
Dominican order in 1243. His spiritual superiors were aware 
of his promise, and sent him to Cologne to study under Albertus 
Magnus, who soon took his pupil to Paris. On receiving the 
degree of bachelor of divinity, Thomas returned to Cologne in 
1248, and now taught as subordinate to Albertus Magnus. 
These were years of rapid intellectual growth. Entrance into 
the Paris faculty was long refused him on account of jealousy 
of the mendicant orders, but in 1257 he was given full standing 
there. From 1261 for some years he taught in Italy, then once 
more in Paris, and finally, from 1272, in Naples. He died, on 
his way to the Coimcil of Lyons, in 1274. In these crowded 
years of teaching Thomas was constantly consulted on im- 
portant civil and ecclesiastical questions, and was active in 
preaching ; yet his pen was busy with results as voluminous as 
they were important. His great Summa Theologies was begun 
about 1265, and not fully completed at his deatli. Personally 
he was a simple, deeply religious, prayerful man. Intellectually 
his work was marked by a clarity, a logical consistency, and a 
breadth of presentation that places him among the few great 
teachers of the church. In the Roman communion his influence 
has never ceased. By declaration of Pope Leo XIII (1878- 
1903), in 1879, his work is the basis of present theological 

Closely associated with Aquinas in friendship and for a time 
in teaching activities in the University of Paris, was John Fi- 
danza (1221-1274), generally known as Bonaventura. Bom in 
Bagnorea, in the States of the Church, he entered the Franciscan 
order in 1238, rising to become its ''general" in 1257. A year 
before his death he was made a cardinal. Famed as a teacher in 
Paris, he was even more distinguished for his administration of 
the Franciscan order and for his high character. Much less 
an Aristotelian than Aquinas, he was especially influenced by 
the Neo-Platonic teachings of Augustine and Pseudo-Dionysius. 
• He was essentially a mystic. ^By meditation and prayer one 
may rise into that union with (rod which brings the highest 
knowledge of divine truth. ;Yet, though a mystic, Bonaven- 


tura was a theologian of dialectic ability whose work, more 
coB^^ative and less original than that of Aquinas, neverthe- 
less commanded high respect. 

According to Aquinas, in whom Scholasticism attained its 
noblest development, the aim of all theological investigation is 
to give knowledge of God and of man'g origin ^nd destiny. , 
Such knowledge comes in part by reason — natural theology — 
but the attainments of reason are inadequate. They must be 
augmented by revelation. That revelation is contained in the 
Scriptures, which "are the only final authority ; but they are to ^ . 
be understood in the light of the interpretations of the coimcils ^ 
and the Fathers — ^in a word, as comprehended by the churchy 
The truths of revelation cannot l>e attained by reason, but they 
are not contrary to reason, and reason can show the inade- 
quapy of objections to them. Aquinas is thus far from sharing 
Anselm's conviction that all Truths of Christianity are philo- 
"sbphically demonstrable; but he holds that there can be no 
contradiction between philosophy and^theblogy, since T)oth are ^ 

In treating of God Aquinas combined Aristotelian and Neo- 
Platomc. conceptions. He is the first cause. He is pure ac- 
tivity. He is also the most real and perfect of existences. 
He is the absolute substance, the source and end of all things. ^ 
As perfect goodness, God does always that which He sees to T 
be right. Regarding the Trinity and the person of Christ, 
Aquinas stood essentially on the basis of Augustine and the 
Chalcedonian formula (an^, p. 151). 

God needs nothing, and therefore the creation of the world 
was an expression of the divine love which He bestows on the 
existences He thus called into being. God's providence ex- 
tends to all events, and is manifested in the predestination of 
some to everlasting life, and in leaving others to the conse- 
quences of sin in eternal condenmation. Aquinas's position is 
largely determinist. Man has, indeed, in a certain sense, free- 
dom. His win acts ; but that does not preclude the detormin- 
ing or permissive providence of God. Tbe^ divine.permiaaiQn 
of evil i^ults in the higher good of the whol^. Tbough^siiLia. 
no less sinful, ifs ^dstence permits thV deyelopmeiit of many 
virtues which go to make strength of character in those who 

Aqumas abandoned the ancient distinction between "soul" 


and '' spirit/' The soul of man is a unit, possessing inteDect 
and wiU. It is immaterial. Man^s highest good is the visicm 
and enjoyment of God. As^oripnally created manliad7m 
addifion io his natural 'tx>wers, a superadded gift which en- 
abled him to seek that highest good and practise the three 
Christian virtues — fai th, ho pe, andJoig^ This Adam lost by 
an, which also corhipted his natural powers, so that his state 
became not merely a lack of original righteousness, but a posi- 
tive turning towaid lower aims. Sin ja^^erefore, more than 
merely negat ive. In this fallen state it was unpossible f(m ~ 
Adam to pIease"Tjod, and this corruption was transmitted to 
all his posterity. Man still has the power to attain the four 
natural virtues, grudenj;^, justice, courage, and self «i ym to)l ; 
but these, though HBrmging a certain measure of UsaipmT 
honor and happiness, are not sufficient to enable their p^ seasbF^ 
to attain the vision of God./ " ' ' "^ ~ ^ 

Man's restoration is possible only through the^ree and un- 
merited grace of *Godj bywhlch inan*s nature is cKarige 37"Ei3 
sins forgivenj^and.power^,tojpractise the three €faristianv ^\tea 
infuseid. frjp act of hi s can win "this grace.'^ While God could 
conceivably have forgiven man's sins and gf^ted grace without 
the sacrifice of Christ — ^here Aquinas differed from Anselm — 
the work of Christ was the wisest and most efficient method 
God could choose, and Tpp^n^g Yrhole re demp 
it. That work involved satisfaction for ma? 
won a merit which deserves a reward. iLalao moviea jneo^io^ 
love^ Aquinas thusulevelopedandx^ombiofitLviews presented . 
by Anselm and Abelard. Christ's satisfaction superabounds 
man's sin, and the reward which Christ cannot personally re- 
ceive, since as God He needs nothing, comes to ^e advantage • 
of His human brethren. Xhrigt does f or men what t hey can- ' 
Uot do for themselves:^ 

Once redeemed, however, the good works that God's grace 
now enables man to do deserve and receive a reward. Man 
jaog has power to fulfil not only the precepts but the counsek 
of the Gospel (ante, p. 103). He can do works of supereroga- 
tion, of which the chief would be the faithful fulfilment of the 
monastic life. He can not merely fit himself for heaven ; he 
can add his mite to the treasury of the superabundant merits 
of Christ and the saints. Yet all this is made possible only 
by the grace of God. Aquinas thus finds full room for the 


two dominating conceptions of mediseval piety — ^grace and 

Grace does not come to men indiscriminately. It has its ' 
definite channels and these are the sacraments^ and the sacra-j 
ments. alone. Here Scholasticism attained far greater clearness 
of definition than had previously existed. The ancient feeling 
that all sacred actions were sacraments was still alive in the 
twelftii century, but Hugo of St. Victor and Abelard clearly 
placed five in a more conspicuously sacramental category 
than others, and Peter Lombard defined the sacraments as 
seven. Whether this reckoning was original with him is still 
an unsolved problem ; nor was it at once universally accepted. 
The influence of his Sentences ultimately won the day. As 
enumerated by Peter Lombard, the sacraments are baptism, 
confirmation, the Lord's Supper, penance, extreme unction, 
ordination, and matrimony. All were instituted by Chtbt> 
directiy or through the Apostles, and all convey grace from 
Christ the head to the members of His mystical body, the 
church. Without them there is no true union with Christ. 

Every sacrament consists of two elements which are defined 
in Aristotelian terms of form and matter (ante, p. 4) — a material 
portion (water, bread, and wine, etc.) ; and a formula conveying 
its sacred use ("I baptize thee,'' etc.). The administrant nmst 
have the intention of doing what Christ and the church ap- 
pointed, and the recipient must have, at least in the case of 
those of years of discretion, a sincere desire to receive the 
benefit of the sacrament. These conditions fulfilled, the sacra- 
ment conveys grace by the fact of its reception — ^that is ex 
opere operato. Of this grace God is the principal cause ; the 
sacrament itself is the instrumen tal cause . It is the means by 
which the viftue^of T!!hrist's passion is conveyed to His members. 

By baptism the recipient is regenerated, and original and 
previous personal sins are pardoned, though the tendency to 
«n is not obliterated. Man is now given the grace, if he will 
use it, to resist sin, and the lost power to attain the Christian 
virtues. Infant baptism had become the universal practice, ^/^ 
but in the time of Aquinas immersion was still the more preva- 
lent form, and had his approval. 

The sole recognized theory regarding Christ's presence in 
the Supper was that which had been taught by Paschasius 
Radbertus {ante, p. 211) and Lanfranc {ante, p. 262), and had 




been known since the first half of the twelfth century as transub- 
stantiation. It had been given full dogmatic authority by the 
Fourth Lateran Council in 1215. Aquinas but added clear- 
ness of definition. At the words of consecration by the priest 
the miracle is wrought by the power of God, so that while the 
accidents" (shape, taste, and the like) remain unaltered, the 
substance" is transformed into the very body and blood of 

Aquinas also accepted and developed the view that the whole 
body and blood of Christ is present in either element. It was 
far from original with him, but had grown with the increasing 
custom of the laity to partake of the bread only. A withdrawal 
of the cup instigated by the clergy did not take place. The 
abandonment of the cup was rather a layman's practice due to 
fear of dishonoring the sacrament by misuse of the wine. Such 
anxiety had manifested itself as early as the seventh century 
in the adoption of the Greek custom of dipping the bread in 
the wine — a practice repeatedly disapproved by ecclesiastical 
authority, but supported by lay sentiment. By the twelfth 
century the laity were avoiding the use of the wine altogether, 
apparently first of all in England. By the time of Aquinas 
lay conmiunion in the bread alone had become prevalent. 
Similar considerations led to the general abandonment by the 
Western Church, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries of the 
practice of infant commimion, which had been universal, and 
which continues in the Greek Church to the present. 

Medieval piety and worship reach their highest point in the 
Lord's Supper. It is the continuation of the incarnation, the 
repetition of the passion, the source of spiritual upbuilding to 
the recipient, the evidence of his union with Christ, and a sac- 
rifice well pleasing to God, inclining Him to be gracious to those 
in need on earth and in purgatory. 

Penance, though not reckoned a sacrament of equal dignity 
with baptism or the Lord's Supper, was really of great, if not 
prime, importance in medieval practice. Medisval liiought 
regarding the personal religious life centred about the two 
conceptions of grace and merit. Baptism effected the forgive- 
ness of previous sins ; but for those after baptism penance was 
necessary. The Latin mind has always been inclined to view 
sin and righteousness in terms of definite acts rather than as 
^states, and therefore to look upon man's relations to God under 


the aspects of debt and credit — ^though holding that the only 
basis of credit is the effect of God's grace. These tendencies 
were never more marked than in the scholastic period. They 
represented wide-spread popular views which the schoolmen 
explained theologically, rather than originated. 

According to Aquinas, penance involves four elements, cpn- 
tritioUj confession, satisfaction, and abaolutipn. Contrition is 
sincere sorrow for the offense against God and a determination 
not to repeat it. Yet Aquinas holds that, as all sacraments 
convey grace, a penance begun in "attrition," that is, in fear 
of puni^ment, may by infused grace become a real contrition. 

Private confession to the priest had made gradual progress 
ance its advocacy by the old British missionaries (ante, p. 197). 
Abelard and Peter Lombard were of opinion that a true con- 
trition was followed by divine forgiveness, even without priestly 
confession, though iJiey thought such confession desirable. 
The Fourth Lateran Council, in 1215^ required confession to 
the priest at least once a year of all laymen of age of discretion. 
Such confession thereby became church law. Alexander of 
Hales argued its necessity, and Aquinas gave it more logical 
exposition. It must be made to the priest as the physician of 
the soul, and include all "deadly'' sms — ^the catalogue of which 
was now much larger than in the early church (ante, p. 100). 

Though God forgives the eternal punishment of the penitent, 
certain temj^al penalties remain as a consequence of sm. 
This distinctioil ^as clearly made by Abelard and became the 
current property of the schoolmen. These temporal penalties 
satisfy the sinner's offense against God so far as it is in his 
power to do so. They also enable him to avoid sin in the future. 
Hiey are the "fruits of repentance." It is the business of the 
priest to impose these satisfactions, which, if not adequate in 
this life, will be completed in purgatory. 

On evidence thus of sorrow for sin, confession, and a willing- 
ness to give satisfaction, the priest, as God's minister or agent, 
pronounces absolution. Here, then, was the great control of 
-tibe priesthood over the laity till the Reformation, and in the 
Roman Church to the present. Without priestiy pardon no 
one guilty after baptism of a "deadly" sin has assurance of 

A great modification of these satisfactions was, however, 
xapidly growing in the century and a half before Aquinas. A 



remission of a portion or of all of these ^'temporal" penalties 
could be obtained. Such remission was called an " indulgence/' 
Bishops had long exercised the right to abridge satisfactions in 
cases where circumstances indicated unusual contrition. Great 
services to the church were held to deserve such consideration. 
Peter Damiani (1007 ?-1072) regarded gifts of land for a mon- 
astery or a church as affording such occasions. These did not 
constitute the full indulgence system, however. That seons 
to have originated in southern France, and the earliest, though 
not undisputed, instance is about the year 1016. Their first 
conspicuous employment was by a French Pope, Urban II 
(108&-1099), who promised full indulgence to all who'engaged 
in the First Crusade, though Pope Alexander II had given 
similar privileges on a smaller scale for battle against the Sara- 
cens in Spain about 1063. Once begun, the system spread 
with great rapidity. Not only Popes but bishops gave indul- 
gences, and on constantly easier terms. Pilgrimages to sacred 
places or at special times, contributions to a good work, such as 
building a church or even a bridge or a road, were deemed de- 
serving of such reward. The financial possibilities of the ^s- 
tem were soon perceived and exploited. Since '^ temporal" 
penalties included those of purgatory, the value of an indulgence 
was enonnous, though undefined, and the tendency to substi- 
tute it for a real penance was one to which human nature readily 

Such was the practice to which Aquinas now gave the classic 
interpretation. Following Alexander of Hales, he taught that 
the superabundant merits of Christ and of the saints form a 
treasury of good works from which a portion may be transferred 
by the authority of the church, acting through its officers, to 
the needy sinner. It can, indeed, avail only for those who are 
really contrite, but for such it removes, in whole or in part, 
the " temporal '^ penalties here and in purgatory. Indulgences 
were never a license to commit sin. They were an amelioration 
of penalties justly due to sins already committed and regretted. 
But, however interpreted, there can be no doubt as to the 
moral harmfulness of the system, or that it grew worse till the 
Reformation, of which it was an immediately inducing cause. 

At their deaths, according to Aquinas, the wicked pass im- 
mediately to hell, which is endless, and from which there is no 
release. Those who have made full use of the grace offered in 



the church go at once to heaven. The mass of Christians 
who have but imperfectly availed themselves of the means of 
grace must undergo a longer or shorter purification in purga- 

The (fejyrchjs^one, whether in heaven^ on earth, or in pur- 
gatory. When one member jsuffers, all suffer ; when one does 
well, all share in Tils good work. On this unity of the church 
Aquiuas bases prayers to the saints and for those in purgatoiy • 
The visible church requires a visible head. To be subject to 
the Roman Pontiff is necessary for salvation. To the Pope, 
also, belongs the right to issue new definitions of faith, and 
Aquinas implies the doctrine of papal infallibility. 

It was Aquinas's good fortune that his philosophy and his 
theology alike found a hearty disciple in the greatest of medi- 
aeval poets, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321), whose Divina Com- 
media moves, in these respects, almost wholly in Aquinas's 
reahn of thought. 

Aquinas was a Dominican, and their natural rivalry soon 
drew upon his system the criticism of Franciscan scholars, 
many of whom were of English birth. Such a critic was 
Ridiard of Middletown ( ?--1300 ?) ; but the most famous of 
all, and one of the greatest of the schoolmen, was John Duns 
Septus (1265?-1308). In spite of his name he appears to have 
been an Englishman. Educated in Oxford, where he became 
its most famous teacher, he removed to Paris in 1304. Four 
years later the general of the order sent him to Cologne, where 
he died just as his work there had begun. The keenest critic 
and the ablest dialectician of all the schoolmen, he attacked 
the work of Aquinas with the utmost acumen. He attained a 
position as autibioritative teacher in the Franciscan order sim- 
ilar to that of Aquinas in the Dominican, and the theological 
rivalries of the Thomists and Scotists continued to rage till the 

Aquinas had held that the essence of Grod is being. To 
ScQtus, it is arbitrary will. The wIQ in God and man is free. 
Aquinas held that God did what He saw to be right. To 
Scotus what God wills is right by the mere fact of willing. 
Though, like Aquinas, Scotus was a modified realist, he laid 
emphasis on the individual rather than on the universal. To 
him the individual is the more perfect form. 

Since God is absolute will, the sacrifice of Christ has the value 



which God puts upon it. Any other act would have been suffi- 
cient for salvation had God seen fit so to regard it. Nor 
we s ay, with Aquinas^ that Christ's death was the wisest waj 
Ivation. 'iiiat WflUld b^ lo iunii Pro d's whi. All wa Sri 


IS tha t It was the way ch6S6n by (jod^ similarly, Scotus 

ce necessaiy for salvation. Aquinas 

le rei 


has demanded contrition or an ''attrition''— f«ir of punish- 
ment — ^that by the infusion of grace became contrition. Scotus 
held that ''attrition" is sufficient by divine appointment to 
secure fitness for pardon. It is followed by forgiveness, and 
that by the infusion of grace by which a man is enabled to'do 
certain acts to which God has been pleased to attach merit. 
The sacraments do not of themselves convey grace, but are the 
conditions appointed by God upon which, if fulfiUed, grace b 

The most fundamental diif erence between Aquinas and Scotus 
is one of attitude. To Aquinas there could be no real disagree- 
ment between theology and philosophy, however inadequate 
the latter to reach all the truths of the former. To Duns 
much in theology is philosophically improbable, yet must be 
accepted on the authority of the church. The breakdown of 
Scholasticism had begun, for its purpose had been to show the 
reasonableness of Christian truth. 

The dispute which roused the loudest controver^r between 
Thomists and Scotists was regarding the "immaculate con- 
ception" of the Vh-gin Mary. Aquinas had taught 
shared in the original sin of the race. &otus held that she was 
free from it — a doctrine that was to be declared that of the 
church by Pope Pius IX (1846-1878) in 1854, 

Yet more radical in hi s divorce of pnilosq ^ 
was Scotus's pupil, Williain of uccam \ J-ii 
Franciscan of the most earnest type, he studied in Oxford, 
taught in Paris, defended the complete poverty of Christ and 
the Apostles agamst Pope John XXII {ante, p. 261), suffered 
imprisonment, only to escape in 1328 and find refuge with 
Louis of Bavaria, then in quarrel with the Pope. iPor the rest 
->. of his life he defended the iadependence of the state from eode- 
siastical authority with the utmost steadfastness. 

Occam attacked any form of "realism" fiercely. Only in- 

">« dividual objects exist. Any association in genera or qpedes 

is purely mental, having no objective reality. It is simply a 


iise of symbolic ''terms.'* Hence, Occam was called a "termi- 
nist/' His system was a far more vigorous and destructive 
nominalism than that of Roscelin (ante, p. 263). Yet actual 
knowledge, of things in themselves men do not have, only of 
mental .concept^. This denial led him to the conclusion that 
no theological doctrines are philosophically provable. They 
are to be accepted — atid he accepted them — smiply on author- 
ity. That authority he made in practice that of the church; 
though in his contest with what he deemed a derelict papacy 
he taught that Scripture, and not the decisions of councils and i^ 
Popes, is alone binding on the Christian. No wonder that 
Luther, in this respect, could call him ''dear master.'' 

Occam's philosophical views gained increasing sway after his 
death. From thence onward tOl just before the Reformation 
nominalism was the dominant theological position. It was the 
l>ankrupt^ of Scholasticism. While it undoubtedly aided in- 
vestigation by permitting the freest (philosophical) criticism of 
existing dogma, it based all Christian belicdf on arbitrary au- 
thority. That was really to undermine theology, for men do 
not long hold as true what is intellectually indefensible. It 
robbed of interest the great speculative systems of the older 
Scholasticism. Men turned increasingly, in the fourteenth 
and fifteenth centuries, to mysticism, or returned to Augustine 
for the intellectual and religious comfort which Scholasticism 
was unable longer to afford. 


Besides the intellectual, the mystical tendency was strongly 
represented in many of the schoolmen. Hugo of St. Victor 
and Bonaventura may as rightly be reckoned to the mystics 
as to the scholastics. Aquinas showed marked mystic leanings, 
derived from Augustine and the Pseudo-Dionysius. Aristotle 
never wholly conquered Neo-Platonic influences. Neo-Plato- 
nism itself enjoyed a measure of revival in the twelfth and thir- 
teenth centuries, partly through the strongly Neo-Platonizing 
Arabian commentaries on Aristotle, but even more through 
the widely read lAber de Causis, falsely ascribed to Aristotle, but 
containing excerpts from the Neo-Platonic philosopher, Pro- 
clus (410-485), and ultimately by translations directly from 
Produs's accredited works. 




An important representative of this mystical spirit was 
"Meister" Eckhart (1260-1327), a German Dominican, who 
studied in Paris, served as provincial prior of the Saxon dis- 
trict, lived for a time in Strassbwg, and taught in Cologne. 
At the close of his life Eckhart was under trial for heresy. He 
himself declared his readiness to submit his opinions to the 
judgment of the church, but two years after his death a number 
of his teachings were condemned by Pope John XXII. In 
true Neo-Platonic fashion Eckhart taught that that which is 
real in <^11 thnp* i« the divine. In the soul of man is a spark 
of iiod. That is the true reality in all men. All individual- 
izing qualities are essentially negative. Man should, therefore, 
lay them aside. His struggle is to have (rod bom in his soul, 
that is to enter into full commimion with and to come under 
the control of the indwelling God. In this effort Christ is the 
pattern and example, m whom Godhead dwelt in humanity in 
all fulness. With God dominant the soul is filled with love 
and righteousness. Churchly observances may be of some 
value, but the springs of the mystic life are far deeper and its 
union with God more direct. Good works do not make right- 
eous. It i s the soul already righteous mat 
The alTunporUnf matter S ^ 

privilege of imion with God. 

Perhaps the most eminent of Eckhart's disciples was John 
Tauler (?-1361), a Dominican preacher who worked long m 
Strassburg, of which he was probably a native, in Cologne and 
in Basel. The times in Germany were peculiarly difficult. 
The long contest for the empire between Frederick of Austria 
and Louis of Bavaria, and papal interferences therein, wrought 
religious as well as political confusion. The bubonic plague of 
1348-1349, known m England as the ''black death," devas- 
tated the population. \ To his distressed age T^ftr^^^ T"" " 
i_ f helpfulness, whose sermons have be^ widely 'read 
ever smce. in tnem'are many ^'evangeUcal!* thoughts, which 
aroused the admiration of Luther, and have often led to the 
claim that he was a Protestant before Protestantism. He 
emphasized the inward and the vital in religion, and condenmed 
dependence on external ceremonies and dead works. His real 
position was that of a follower of Eckhart, with similar mystic 
emphasis on union with the divine, on " Gj 
though he avoided the extreme stat^ents which had led to 


chuTcUy condemnation of Eckhart's opinions. A less practical 
but widely influential representative of the same tendencies 
was the ascetic Dominican, Henry Suso (?-1366), whose writ- 
ings did much to further this mystic point of view. 

Through these influences a whole group of mystic sympa- 
thizers was raised up in southwestern Germany and Switzerland, 
who called themselves "Friends of God.'* These included 
not only many of the clergy, but nuns and a considerable 
number of laity. Among the laymen, Rulman Merswin, 
of Strassburg (1307-1382), was the most influential. Origi- 
nally a banker and merchant, he was intimate with Tauler, 
whose views he shared, and devoted all the latter part of his 
life to religious labors. He mystified his contemporaries and 
posterity by letters and books which he set forth purporting 
to come from a "great Friend of God" in the Highlands (t. e., 
Switzerland), whose existence was long believed real, but now 
is practically proved to have been a fiction of Merswin himself. 
The most important work of these Friends of God was the 
** German Theology,'* written late in the fourteenth century 
by an otherwise unknown and unnamed priest of the Deutach' 
Herm Haus of Frankfort,' which was to influence Luther, and 
to be printed by him in 1516 and 1518. 

These Gennan mystics all leaned strongly toward pantheism. 
They all, however, represented a view of the Christian life 
which saw its essence in a transforming personal union of the 
soul with God, and they all laid little weight on the more ex- 
ternal methods of ordinary churchly life. 

This mystical movement was furthered in the Netherlands 
by John of Ruysbroeck (1294-1381), who was influenced by 
Eddiart's writings and enjoyed the personal friendship of Tauler 
and other of the Friends of (rod. Ruysbroeck's friend, in 
turn, was Gerhard Groot (1340-1384) — a brilliant scholar, 
who upon his conversion, about 1374, became the most influ- 
ential popular preacher of the Netherlands. A more conserva- 
tive churchly thinker than Ruysbroeck, Groot was much less 
radical in his mysticism. A man of great practical gifts, 
Groot's work led shortiy after his death to the foundation 
by his disciple, Florentius Radewyn (1350-1400), of the Breth- 
ren of the Common Life. This association, of which the flrst 
house was established in Deventer, grew out of the union of 
Groot's converts for a warmer religious life. They grouped 


themselves in houses of brethren and of sisters, who lived es- 
sentially a monastic life und^ common rules, but without per* 
manent vows, engaged in religious exercises, copying books of 
edification, and especially in teaching. Work was required of 
all. These houses were widenspread in the Netherlands and in 
Germany, and did much to promote popular piety in the fif- 
teenth century. 

The Brethren of the Conmion Life were non-monastic in 
the matter of vows. Groot's preaching led to an influential 
movement for those who preferred the monastic life, though it, 
also, did not take full form till shortly after his death. This 
was the foundation of the famous monastery of Windesheim, 
which soon gathered a number of affiliated convents about it, 
and became a reformatory influence of power in the monastic 
life of the Netherlands and Germany. In both these move- 
ments the mystic influence was strongly present, though in a 
much more diurchly form than among the inunediate <Usciples 
of Eckhart. 

The noblest product of this simple, mystical, churchly piety 
is the ImtUxtion of Christ — a book the circulation of which has 
exceeded that of any other product of the Middle Ages. 
Though its authorship has been the theme of heated contro- 
versy, it was unquestionably the work of Thomas i Kempis 
(1380?-1471). A pupil of the Brethren of the Conunon Life 
in D^enter, most of his long life was spent in the monastery 
of Mount St. Agnes, near ZwoUe. This foundation was a 
member of the Windesheim congregation, of which Thomas's 
older brother, John, was one of the founders. Thomas's life 
was outwardly the most uneventful conceivable ; but few have 
^'S^ understood, as did he, the language of simple, mystical devo- 
tion to Christ. 

The mystical movement had its reverse side in a pantheism 
which broke with ail churchly and even all moral teaching. 
Such was that of Amalrich of Bena (?~1204), a teacher in 
Paris, who was led by the writings of John Scotus Erigena 
{ante, p. 210) and the extreme Neo-Platonic opinions of the 
Spanish Mohammedan expositor of Aristotie, Averroes (1126- 

N1198), to the conclusions that God is all, that He is incarnate 
in the believer as in Christ, and that the believer cannot sin. 
He also held that as the Jewish law and ritual had been abol- 
ished by the coming of Christ, so that of earlier Christianity 


was now done away with by the coming of the Holy Spirit. 
Amalrich was compeUed to recant by Pope Innocent III, but he 
left a number of followers. 

Similar extravagances kept cropping out in the regions of 
Germany and the Netherlands, where the mysticism already 
described had its chief following. In many ways it was simply 
that mysticism carried to a pantheistic extreme. It was usu- 
ally quietist, believing that the soul could become one withfl/^ 
€rod by contemplation, and in consequence of that union its 
acts could no longer be sinful, since it is controlled by God. 
All sacraments and penances, even prayer, become superfluous. 
These views were not imited into a compact system, nor did 
their holders constitute a sect, though they have often been so 
regarded and named the ^'Brethren and Sisters of the Free 
Spirit." Undoubtedly, however, such notions were rather fre- 
quently to be foimd in monasteries and nunneries, where mys- 
ticism was practised extravagantly, and among the B^uines, 
whom they brought into doubtful repute. They were not only 
repressed by the inquisition, but were opposed by the greater 
mystic leaders of whom an account has been given. 


The period between the Crusades and the Reformation was 
one of gains and losses for Christendom. In Spain the Chris- 
tian forces struggled with increasing success against the Mo- 
hammedans. Gradually, four Christian states dominated the 
peninsula. Castile conquered Toledo in 1085, defeated the 
Moslems at Las Navas de Tolosa in 1212, and united with 
Leon into a strong state in 1230. Little Navarre stretched on 
both sides of the Pyrenees. Meanwhile Aragon on the east 
and Portugal on the west were winning their independence, 
so that by 1250 Mohammedan power on the peninsula was 
confined to the kingdom of Granada, whence it was to be driven 
in 1492. The Spanish Christian kingdoms were weak. The 
real power of Spain was not to be manifest till the joint reign 
of Ferdinand and Isabella united Castile and Aragon in 1479. 

In the East the great Mongol empire, which began with the 
conquest of northern China in 1213, stretched across northern 
Asia, conquering most of what is now European Russia between 
1238 and 1241, and reaching the borders of Palestine in 1258. 


By this devastation the flourishing Nestorian Church in cen- 
tral Asia (ante, p. 149) was almost annihilated. Yet after the 
first rush of conquest was over, central Asia under Mongol 
control was accessible as it had never been before and was not 
to be till the nineteenth century. About 1260 two Venetian 
merchants, Nicolo and Maffeo Polo, made the long journey by 
land to Peking, where they were well received by the Mongol 
Khan, Kublai. Returning in 1269, they started again in 1271, 
taking Nicolo's more famous son, Marco, who entered the 
Khan's service. It was not till 1295 that the Polos were back 
in Venice. Even before their return an Italian Franciscan, 
John of Monte Corvino, had started in 1291 for Peking, where 
he established a church about 1300. Christianity flourished 
for a time. Tope Clement V (1305-1314) appointed John an 
archbishop with six bishops under him. The work came to an 
end, however, when the Mongols and other foreigners were ex- 
pelled from China by the victorious native Ming dynasty in 

Efforts were made to reach the Mohammedans, but with lit- 
tle success. Francis of Assisi himself preached to the Sultan in 
Egypt in 1219 (ante, p. 258). More famous as a missionary 
was Raimon Lull (1235 ?-1315), a native of the island of Mi^ 
jorca. From a wholly worldly life he was converted in 1266, 
and now studied Arabic, as a missionary preparation, writing 
also his Are Major, which he intended as an irrefutable demon- 
stration of Christianity. In 1291 he began missionary work 
in Tunis, only to be expelled at the end of a year. He labored 
to induce the Pope to establish schools for missionary training. 
He went once more to Africa and was again driven out. His 
eloquence persuaded the Council of Vienne in 1311 to order 
teaching in Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic, in Avignon, 
Paris, Salamanca, Bologna, and Oxford, though this remained 
a pious wish. Back to Tunis he went as a missionary in 1314, 
and met a martyr's death by stoning the next year. He had 
little to show of missionary achievement, but much of mission- 
ary inspiration. 

The prevailing characteristic of this period was the loss of 
once Chrbtian territories. The last of the conquests of the 
Crusaders in Palestine passed out of their hands in 1291. A 
new Mohammedan force was arising in the Ottoman Turks. 
Sprung from central Asia, they attained an independent posi* 


lion in Asia Minor in 1300. In 1354 they invaded the Euro- 
pean portion of the Eastern empire, capturing Adrianople in 
1361, and gradually spreading their rule over the Balkan lands. 
But a fragment of the empire remained till 1453, when Con- 
stantinople fell and the Eastern empire was at an end. The 
victorious career of the Turks was to carry them, in the Ref- 
ormation age, nearly half across Eiux>pe. Christians ruled by 
them were deprived of political rights, though Christian wor^ 
ship and organization continued, under conditions of much 
oppression. The Greek Church, which had stood higher in cul- 
ture than the Latin, certainly till the thirteenth century, was 
now largely robbed of significance. Its daughter in Russia was 
not conquered, however, and was growing rapidly in strength 
and importance. With it lay the future of the Eastern Church. 


The contest between papacy and empire was by no means 
ended by the Concordat of Worms (ante, p. 234). The religious 
interest in the struggle was thereafter far less. Hildebrand's 
quarrel had involved a great question of church purification. 
The later disputes were plain contests for supremacy. 

Frederick "Barbarossa" (1152-1190), of the house of Hohen- 
staufen, was one of the ablest of the Holy Roman Emperors. 
His model was Charlemagne, and he aspired to a similar con- 
trol of churchly affairs. A vigorous ruler at home, no sovereign 
had been more thoroughly master of Germany than he. In 
spite of the Concordat of Worms he practically controlled the 
appointment of German bishops. On the other hand, his 
claims met with energetic resistance from the cities of northern 
Italy, which were growing strong on the commerce induced by 
the Crusades. This hostility he at first successfully overcame. 
With Alexander III (1159-1181) Frederick's most able enemy 
mounted the papal throne. The cardinals were divided in the 
choice, and an imperialistic minority elected a rival Pope, who 
called himself Victor IV, and whom Frederick and the German 
bishops promptly supported. Alexander's position was long 
difiScult. In 1176, however, Frederick was defeated at Legnano 
by the Lombard league of Italian cities, and was forced to 
recognize Alexander. Frederick's attempt to control the papacy 
bad been shattered, but his authority over the German bi^ops 


was scarcely diminished.^ Frederick won a further success over 
the papacy, in 1186, by the marriage of his son Henry with 
the heiress of Sicily and southern Italy, thus threatening the 
papal states from north and south. 

Alexander HI also won at least an apparent success over 
Heniy U (1154-1189), one of the ablest of English Kings. That 
monw^, in order to strengthen his hold over the English 
church, secured the election of his apparently compliusant (£an- 
ceDor, Thomas Becket, as archbishop of Canterbury, in 1162. 
Once in office, Becket showed himself a determined upholder 
of ecclesiastical claims. Henry now, in 1164, seciued the en- 
actment of the Constitutions of Clarendon^ limiting the right 
of appeal to Rome in ecclesiastical cases, restricting the power 
of excommunication, subjecting the clergy to civil courts, and 
putting the election of bishops under the control of the King, 
to whom they must do homage. Becket now openly broke 
with the King. In 1170 a truce was brought about, but it was 
of short duration, and a hasty expression of anger on the part 
of Henry led to Becket's murder just at the dose of the year. 
Alexander used the deed skilfully. In 1172 Becket was can- 
onized, and continued till the Reformation one of the most 
popular of English saints. Henry was forced to abandon the 
Constitutions of Clarendon, and do penance at Becket's grave. 
Yet in spite of this apparent papal victory, Henry continued 
his control of English ecclesiastical affairs much as before. 

Frederick ''Barbarossa" died in 1190, on the Third Crusade. 
He was succeeded by his son, Henry VI (1190-1197), who, in 
1194, obtained full possession of his wife's inheritance in Sicily 
and southern Italy, and developed ambitious plans of greatly 
extending his imperial sway. The papacy, with both ends of 
Italy in the possession of tiie German sovereign, was in great 
political danger; but the situation was relieved by the eariy 
death of Henry VI in 1197, and the accession to the papacy in 
1198 of one of its ablest mediaeval representatives. Innocent HI 

Innocent HI was unquestionably a man of personal humility 
and piety, but no Pope ever had higher conceptions of the papal 

^See ''Peace of Venice/' Henderson, Sdeet Hi^Unieal DocumgnU^ pp, 

■ Gee and Hardy, DocumenU iUustralwe of Engfith Church Hiatory, pp. 


office and under him the papacy reached its highest actual 
power. The death of Henry VI saw Grermany divided. One 
party supported the claims of Henry's brother, Philip of Swabia, 
the other those of Otto of Brunswick, of the rival house of 
Welf (Guelph). Out of this confused situation Innocent strove 
with great skill to bring advantage to the papacy. He secured 
large concessions in Italy and Germany from Otto, yet when 
Philip gradually gained the upper hand, Innocent secured an 
agreement that the rival claims should be submitted to the 
judgment of a court controlled by the Pope. The murder of 
PhQip in 1208 frustrated this plan, and put Otto IV once more 
to the fore. Innocent now obtained from Otto the desired 
guarantee of the extent of the papal states, and a promise to 
abandon control of German episcopal elections, and on the 
strength of these concessions crowned Otto Emperor in 1209. 
Otto promptly forgot all his promises. The angered Pope now 
put forward Frederick 11 (1212-1250), the young son of the late 
Emperor, Henry VI, who was chosen to the German throne 
by the elements opposed to Otto, in 1212, and renewed all 
Otto's broken promises. In 1214 Otto was wholly defeated by 
the French Kmg, Philip II (1179-1223) on the field of Bouvines, 
and Frederick was assured of the empire. Thus, Innocent lU 
seemed wholly to have defended papal claims and to have 
dictated the imperial succession. The world supremacy of the 
papacy appeared realized. 

Nor was Innocent III less successful in humbling the sov- 
ereigns of other lands. He compelled the powerful Philip U 
of France, by the prohibiti6n of icligious services — an interdict 
— ^to take back the Queen, Ingeborg, whom Philip had unjustly 
divorced. He separated King Alfonso IX of Leon from a wife 
too closely relatei. King Peter of Aragon received his king- 
dom as a fief from the Pope. Innocent's greatest apparent vic- 
tory was, however^ in the case of England. The cruel and 
unpopular King John (1199-1216), in a divided election tried 
to secure his candidate as archbishop of Canterbury. The dis^ 
pute was appealed to RcHne. The King's choice was set aside 
and Innocent's friend, Stephen Langton, recdved the> prise. ' 
John resisted. Innocent laid England under an interdict. The 
King drove out his derical opponents. The Pope now excom- 
municated him, declared his throne forfeited and proclaimed a 
crusade against him. The defeated King not merely made a 


humiliating submission to the Pope, in 1213, but acknowledged 
his kingdom a fief of the papacy, agreeing to pay a feudal tax 
to the Pope of a thousand marks annually.^ Yet when the 
barons and clergy wrung Magna Charta from John in 1215, 
Innocent denounced it as an injury to his vassal. 

In the internal affairs of the church Innocent's policy was 
strongly centralizing. He claimed for the papacy the right of 
decision in all disputed episcopal elections. He asserted sole 
authority to sanction the transfer of bishops from one see to 
another. His crusade against the Cathari has already been 
noted (ante, p. 253). T^e great Fourth Lateran Council of 
1215, at which transubstantiation was declared an article of 
faith, and annual confession and communion required, was also 
a papal triumph. The conquest of Constantinople by the 
Fourth Crusade (ante, p. 243), though not approved by Inno- 
cent, seemed to promise the subjection of the Greek Church to 
papal authority. 

In Innocent III the papacy reached the summit of its worldly 
pow^r. The succeeding Popes continued the same struggle, 
but with decreasing success. The Emperor Frederick II, ruler 
of Germany, as well as of northern and southern Italy and 
Sicily, a man of much political ability and of anything but 
mediaeval piety, though put in office largely by Innocent III, 
soon proved the chief opponent of the world pretensions of the 
papacy. Under Gregory IX (1227-1241), the organizer of the 
inquisition and the patron of the Franciscans (ante, pp. 254, 258), 
and Innocent IV (1243-1254) the papal contest was carried on 
against Frederick II, with the utmost bitterness and with very 
worldly weapons. Frederick was excommunicated, and rivals 
were raised up against him in Germany by papal influence. 
The papacy seemed convinced that only the destruction of the 
Hohenstaufen line, to which Frederick belonged, would assure 
its victory. On Frederick's death in 1250 it pursued his son, 
Conrad IV (1250-1254), with the same hostility, and gave his 
heritage in southern Italy and Sicily to Edmund of England, 
son of King Henry III. A new influence, that of France, was 
making itself felt in papal counsels. Urban IV (1261-1264) was 
a Frenchman and appointed French cardinals. He now gave, 
in 1263, southern Italy and Sicily to Charles of Anjou, brother 
of Kmg Louis IX of France (1226-1270). This was a tummg- 

^ Henderson, pp. 43(M32. 


I>omt in papal politics, and with it the dependence of the papacy 
on France really began. The next Pope was also a Frenchman, 
Clement IV (1265-1268). During his papacy Conradin^ the 
young son of Conrad IV, asserted his hereditary claims to 
southern Italy and Sicily by force of arms. He was excom- 
municated by Clement IV and defeated by Charles of Anjou, 
by whose orders he was beheaded in Naples, in 1268. With 
him ended the line of Hohenstaufen, which the Popes had so 
strenuously opposed, though there is no reason to think that 
the Pope was resiK>nsible in any way for Conradin's execution. 
These long quarrels and the consequent confusion had 
greatly enfeebled the power of the Holy Roman Empire. 
Thenceforward, to the Reformation, it was far more a group of 
feeble states than an effective single sovereignty. It was able 
to offer little resistance to papal demands. Other forces were, 
however, arising that would inevitably make impossible such 
a world sovereignty as Innocent III had exercised. One such 
force was the new sense of nationality, which caused men to 
feel that, as Frenchmen or Englishmen, they had common in- 
terests against all foreigners, even the Pope himself. Such a 
sense of unity had not existed in the earlier Middle Ages. It 
was rapidly developing, especially in France and England in 
the latter half of the tibirteenth century. A second cause was 
the rise in intelligence, wealth, and political influence of the 
middle class, especially in the cities. These were restive under 
ecclesiastical interference in temporal affairs. Closely asso- 
ciated with this development was the growth of a body of lay 
lawyers and the renewed study of the Roman law. These 
men were gradually displacing ecclesiastics as royal advisers, 
and developing the effectiveness of the royal power by prece- 
dents from a body of law — the Roman — ^which knew notlung of 
mediseval ecclesiastical conditions. There was also a growing 
conviction among thoughtful and religious men that such 
worldly aims as the recent papacy had followed were incon- 
sistent with the true interests of the church. These were 
growing forces with which the papacy must reckon. The weak- 
ness of the papacy, from a worldly point of view, was that it 
had no adequate physical forces at its disposal. It must bal- 
ance off one competitor against another, and the wreck wrought 
in Germany left the door open to France without forces which 
could be matched against her. 


Papal interference in Germany continued. Pope Gr^ory 
X (1271-1276) ordered the Grerman electors, in 1273, to choose 
a King, under threat that the Pope himself would make the 
appointment if they failed. They chose Rudolf I, of Habs- 
burg (1273-1291), who promptly renewed the concessions to 
the papacy which had been once made by Otto IV and Fred- 
erick II. 

Quite otherwise was it speedily with France. The power of 
that monarchy had been rapidly growing, and in Philip IV, 
"the Fair'* (1285-1314), Prance had a King of absolute un- 
scrupulousness, obstinacy, and high conceptions of royal au- 
thority. In Boniface VIII (1294-1303) the papacy was held 
by a man of as lofty aspirations to world-rule as had ever there 
been represented. Neither participant in the strug^e com- 
mands much sympathy. War had arisen between France, 
Scotland, and England which compelled the English King, 
Edward I (1272-1307), to rally the support of all his subjects 
by inviting the representatives of the Commons to take a place 
in Parliament, in 1295, thus giving them a permanent share 
in the English national councils. The struggle also induced 
the Kings of France and England to tax their clergy to meet 
its expenses. The clergy complained to Pope Bomiface, who, 
in 1296 issued the buU Clericis laicos^ inflicting excommimica- 
tion on all who demanded or paid such taxes on clerical prop- 
erty without papal permission. Philip replied by prohibiting 
the export of money from France, thus striking at the revenues 
of the Pope and of the Italian bankers. The latter moved 
Boniface to modify his attitude so that the clergy could make 
voluntary contributions, and even allowed that, in great neces- 
sities, the King could lay a tax. It was a royal victory. 

Comparative peace prevailed between Philip and Boniface 
for a few years. In 1301 the struggle again began. Philip 
had Bernard Saisset, bishop of Pamiers, whom the Pope had 
recently sent to him as nuntius, arrested and charged with 
high treason. The Pope ordered Bernard's release and cited 
the French bishops, and ultimately King Philip himself, to 
Rome. In reply, Philip summoned the first Fiench States- 
General, in which clergy, nobles, and commoners were rep- 
resented. This body, in 1302, sustained the King in his atti- 
tude of resistance. The Pope answered with the famous buU» 

^ Henderson, pp. 432-434 ; Robinson, 1 : 488-400. 


Unam sanctam^ the high-water mark of papal claim to suprem- 
acy over civil powers. It affirmed that temporal i>owers are 
subject to the spiritual authority, which is judged in the per- 
son of the Pope by God alone. It declared, following the opin- 
ion of Aquinas {anUf p. 277), "that it is altogether necessary 
to salvation for every human being to be subject to the Roman 
pontiff" — an affirmation the exact scope of which has led to 
much subsequent discussion. Philip answered with a new 
assembly, where the Pope was charged with an absurd series 
of crimes, involving heresy and moral depravity, and appeal 
was issued for a general council of the church before which the 
Pope might be tried. Philip was determined that this should 
be no mere threat. He would force the Pope to consent. 
He therefore sent his able jurbt vice-chancellor, William 
Nogaret, who joined to himself Boniface's ancient family 
enemy, Sciarra Colonna. Together they gathered a force and 
made Boniface a prisoner in Anagni, just as he was about to 
proclaim Philip's excommunication, in 1303. Boniface was 
courageous. He would make no concessions. His friends 
soon freed him, but a month later he died. 

These events were a staggering blow to the temporal claims 
of the papacy. It was not primarily that Philip's representa- 
tives had held Boniface for a short time a prisoner. A new 
force had arisen, that of national sentiment, to which the King 
had appealed successfully, and against which the spiritual 
weapons of the papacy had been of little avail. The papal 
hope of world-rulership in temporal affairs had proved impos- 
sible of permanent redization. 

Worse for the papacy was speedily to follow. After the 
death of Boniface's successor, the excellent Benedict XI (1303- 
1304), the cardinals chose a Frenchman, Bertrand de Gouth, 
who took the title of Clement V (1305-1314). A man of weak- 
ness of character and grave moral faults, he was fully under 
the influence of King Philip IV, .of France. He declared Philip 
innocent of the attack on Boniface VIII, and cancelled Boni- 
face's interdicts and excommunications, modifying the buU 
Vnam sandam to please the King. An evidence of French 
domination that was patent to all the world was the removal 
of the seat of the papacy, in 1309, to Avignon — on the river 
Rhone — ^a town not belonging indeed to the French kingdom, 

^ Henderson, pp. 435-137 ; Robinson, 1 : 346-348. 


but in popular estimate amounting to the establishment of the 
papacy in France. Undoubtedly the troubled state of Italian 
politics had something to do with this removal. At Avignon 
the papacy was to have its seat till 1377 — a period so neariy 
equal to the traditional exile of the Jews as to earn the name 
of the Babylonish Captivity. Nor was the cup of Clement's 
humiliation yet filled. The cold-blooded King compelled him 
to join in the cruel destruction of the Templars (ante, p. 242) 
Clement V's pontificate is interesting as marking the con- 
clusion, to the present, of the official collections of church or 
"canon" law. That great body of authority was the product 
of the history of the church since the early councils, and em- 
braced their decisions, the decrees of synods and of Popes 
The Middle Ages had seen many collections, of which the mo? 
famous was that gathered, probably in 1148, by Gratian.i 
teacher of canon law in Bologna. Pope Gregory IX (1227- 
1241) caused an official collection to be formed, in 1234, includ- 
ing new decrees up to his time. Pope Boniface VIII (1294- 
1303), published a similar addition in 1298, and Clement \ 
(1305-1314) enlarged it in 1314, though his work was not pub 
lished tiU 1317, under his successor, John XXII (1316-1334) 
The great structure, thus laboriously erected through the cen- 
turies, is a mass of ecclesiastical jurisprudence embracing al 
domams of ecclesiastical life. Though official collections ceaset 
from Clement V to the twentieth century, the creation o' 
church law has continued in all ages, and the recent Pope 
Pius X (1903-1914), in 1904 ordered the codification and sim- 
plification of the whole body of canon law by a special commit 




The Popes, while the papacy was in Avignon, were al^ 
Frenchmen. It seemed as if the papacy had become a Frend 
institution. This association caused greatly increased rest 
lessness in view of papal claims, especially in nations whid 
like England, were at war with France during much of thi 
period, or Germany on which the still continuing interferene 
of the papacy bore hard. The ablest of the Avignon Pope 
was unquestionably John XXII (1316-1334). The douW 


imperial election in Gennany^ in 1314^ had divided that land 
between supporters of Louis the Bavarian (1314-1347), and 
Frederick of Austria. John XXII, supported by King Philip 
V of France (1316-1322), thought the occasion ripe to diminish 
German influence in Italy for the benefit of the States of the 
Church. He declined to recognize either claimant, and de- 
clared that the Pope had right to administer the empire during 
vacancies. When Louis interfered in Italian affairs the Pope 
exconununicated him, and a contest with the papacy ensued 
which lasted till Louis's death. In its course the German elec- 
tors issued the famous declaratioh of 1338, in Reuse, which was 
confirmed by the Reichstag in Frankfort the same year, that 
the chosen head of the empire needs no approval from the 
papacy whatever for full entrance on or cfontinuation in the 
duties of his office. 

These attacks upon the state aroused literary defenders of 
considerable significance. One of these was the great Italian 
poet, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321). His Latin treatise. On 
Monarchy, is not surely dated, but was composed between 1311 
and 1318. Dante holds that peace is the best condition of 
mankind. It is most effectively secured by an Emperor. 
The power of empire rightfully came to Rome. It is as neces- 
sary for man's temporal happiness as the papacy is to guide 
men to eternal blessedness. Each is directly from God, and v 
neither should interfere in the province of the other. Dante 
carefully controverts the papal interpretation of the Bible 
texts and historical instances on which claims to control over 
the state were based. All this is the more impressive since 
Dante was no free-thinker but theologically of most impeccable 

Much more radical than Dante, and vastly influential of) 
later political theories were several treatises produced in France. 
The Dominican, John of Paris (1265?-1306), taught that both 
papal and royal powers are based on the sovereignty of the 
people, and neither has a right to interfere with the sphere of 
the other. The most important of these works was the D efemor. 
Marsilius of Padua. ( ?-1342 ?^ and John <5f jandun 

Its principal author, Mp^^ilinfii ^^^ l^i^S ^ 
\, where he was rector ofthe university in 1313, 
and was regarded as learned in medicine. The Defensor Pads 


was written in 1324, in the controvert between Pope John 
XXII and the Emperor Louis the Bavarian. Its radiod views 
caused its authors to seek protection from the Emperor, whidi 
they enjoyed, though with some hesitation, for the rest of their 
lives. They were excommunicated by John XXII in 1327, 
and Pope Clement VI declared, in 1343, that he had never read 
a worse heretical book. 

According to Marsilius, who was deeply versed in Aristotle^ 

the basis of all power is the people ; in the state the whole body 

; of citizens ; in the church the whole body of Christian believers. 

^ They are the legislative power; by them rulers in church and 

state are appointed, and to them these executive officers are 

responsible. The only final authority in thp nhn rch is the 

New T f»5rfj|pif|jj^! hiir nnparg ravp tia nnw^r nf nlivftif^i fnrrff 

to compel men to obey it. Their sole duty is to teach, warn, 
and reprove. The N^ew Testament teaches that bishops and 
priests are equivalent designations, yet it is well, as a purely 
human constitution, to appoint some clergy superintendents 
over others. This appointment gives no superior spiritual 
power, nor has one bishop spiritual authority over another, or 
the Pope over all. Peter had no higher rank than the other 
Apostles. There is no New Testament evidence that he was 
ever in Rome. The New Testament gives no countenance to 
the possession of earthly lordships and estates by deigymen. 
No bishop or Pope has authority to define* Christian truth as 
■contained in the New Testament, or make binding laws. 
J These acts can be done only by the legislative body of the 
church — ^the whole company of Christian believers, represented 
' in a general council. Such a coimcil is the supreme authority 
J in the church. Since the Christian state and the Christian 
church are coterminous, the executive of the Christian state, 
as representing a body of believers, may call councils, appoint 
bishops, and control church property.^ Here were ideas that 
were to bear fruit in the Reformation, and even in the French 
Revdution ; but they were too radical greatly to impress their 
age. Thdr time was later, and somethmg was lacking in Mar- 
cus himself. He was a cool thinker rather than a man who 
could translate theory into action in such fashion as to create 
large leadership. 
Because of a zeal which Marsilius lacked, and of ideas not 

^ See, for some extracts, RobiiiBon, 1 : 491-497. 



too much in advance of the age, a greater authority was wielded 
by William of Occam, whose theological influence and ener- 
getic defense of the extremer Franciscan doctrine of the abso- 
lute poverty of Christ and the Apostles has been noted (ante, 
pp. 261, 278). Occam, like Marsilius, found a refuge with 
Louis the Bavarian. To him, as to Dante, papacy and empire 
are both founded by God, and neither is superior to the other. 
ESach has its own sphere. The church has purely religious.^ 
functions. T|i> final ftnthnritv ia thft ]Mpiy Ji^^^ftmpnt. /^^f Ig^e ||( 

Voices were raised in defense of papal clauns. C^e of the ^ 
most celebrated, though typical rather than original, was that^^v/j^u 
of the Italian Augustinian monk, Augustinus Triumphus (1243- 
1328). In his Summa de potesiate ecclesiastica, written about 
1322, he holds that all princes rule as subject to the Poi>e, who 
can remove them at pleasure. No dvil law is binding if dis- | 

approved by him. Tfje P^pi^ pah V^ j^i dged bv none : nor can6l^^l 
one even appeal from^e Pope to Grod. '^pcft r nt decisiAlllUli fi^i^^ud 
iod andthe I'ope are one.^' Yet should the Popeiall 'Vs> a^ 

court of iiod and the l^ope are one. '' Yet should the Pope fall yfa /u 
into heresy, ins omce is lorfeiiea. /^^ 

These opinions of the papal supporters were far from being r, m 
shared by Germans engaged in a struggle against the papacy "^ 
for the political autonomy of the empire, or by Englishmen at ^"^h/^ 
war with France, who believed the Avignon papacy the tool of ftJ^M 
the French sovereign. Poj)e Clement V (1305-1314) had aa-^^*^ 
serted the right of the papacy to appoint to all ecclesiastical ^"'^ 
office. Such appointees were called '^provisors." and the in- fy*J^ 
trusion of papal favorites in England aroused Jsjng and Parlia- ,^^-a 
ment in 1351 to enact the Statute of Provisors. Elections to if^^^ 
bishoprics and other ecclesiastical posts should be free from /^^ 
papal interference. In case appointment was made by the ^ 
regular authorities, and also by the Pope, the provisor was to 
be imprisoned till he resigned his claim. This law inevitably 
led to disputes between papal and royal authority, and a further 
^tatute of 1353, known as that of ,£nE2Z22fiQd^ forbade appeals 
outside of the kingdom under penalty of outlawry.^ In en- 
forcement these statutes were largely dead letters, but they 
show the growth of a spirit in England which was further illus- 
trated when Parliament, in 1366, refused longer to recognize 
the right of King John to subject his kingdom, in 1213, to the 
Pope as a fief (on^, p. 288). 

^ Gee and Hardy, Documents, pp. 103, 104, 113-119. 



No feature of the Avignon papacy contributed to its criti- 
cism so largely as its offensive taxation of church life. The 
Crusades had been accompanied by a much readier circulation 
of money, and a great increase in conmierce. Europe was 
passing rapidly from barter to money payments. Money taxes, 
rather than receipts in kind, were everywhere increasing. It 
was natural that this change should take place in church ad- 
ministration also ; but the extent to which taxation was pushed 
by the Popes of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was a 
scandal, and it was much aggravated when the removal of the 
papacy to Avignon largely cut off the revenues from the papal 
\ estates in Italy without diminishing the luxury or expensive- 
ness of the papal court. This period saw the extensive devel- 
opment, in imitation of secular feudal practice, of th e-annates, 
/that is a tax of one year's income, more or less, from each new 
appointment. Since the reservation of posts to exclusive papal 
appointment was at the same time inmiensely extended, this 

became a large source of revenue. The income o f v< 

ficeS; also, became a significant source of papal receipts. Tax^ 
tor bulls and other papal dociunents, also rose rapidly in amount 
and productivity. Inese were but a portion of the papal exac- 
tions, and the total effect was the impression that the papal 
administration was heavily and increasingly burdensome on 
the clergy, and through them on the people. This feeling was 
augmented by the rufliless manner in which chiux^hly censures, 
such as exconmiunication, were imposed on delinquent tax- 
payers. The papacy seemed extravagant in expenditure and 
offensive in taxation, and its repute in both respects was to 
grow worse till the Reformation. 

f*n11i>pqf> nf t^^fi Imperial power i n Italy, for which the 

reaponsihlej nnd the transfer to AviggmK 
}(^f\ Ttjtly frfc file w jldest p oli tical confus ioiL Nowhere was the 
situation worse than m Rome, m lli47 uola di Rienzi headed 

a popular revolution aga inst the noblgfi fl,nf1 fotoKiiQ^firj^"^ 
"parody ofthe ahcTeht'Tep ublig . He was soon driven out, but 
in 1354 was in power again, only to be murdered in the parti- 
san struggles. Innocent VI (1352-1362) sent the Siaa n i sh 
dinal Albomoz ( ?-l 367) as his. legate to. iJal^ fi£^^o™ 
miniary and diplqrnatic, ftbili'tiVQ 1 1^^ pitpf^l, jn|:eres^s in Home 
and Italy generally were much improved, so that Urban V 
(1362-1370) actually returned to the EterriaF Ci Ty in 1367 , 



THE SCmSM 297 

The death of Albomoz deprived him of his chief support, and 
in 1370 the papacy was once more in Avignon. Urban V was 
succeeded bv Gregorv XI fl370-;378V whom .qfTl^tT^PrinP nf 
Siena (1347-1380) urged in the name of God to return to Rome. 
Ihe distractea state ot tne city also coimselled his presence if 
papal interests were to be preserved. Accordingly he trans- ^ 
feired the papacy to Rome in 1377, and there died the next/ 

The sudden death of Gregory XI found the cardinals in 
Rome. A majority were French, and would gladly have re- 
turned to Avignon. The Roman people were determined to 
keep the papacy in Rome, and to that end to have an Italian 
Pope. Under co nditio ns of tumult the cardinals chose Barto- 
Iwmmeo Trignano the 'SichEisBoxi .ol ^BaxJL. who took the name 
JJFEanTl (1378-1389). A tactless man, who desired to termi- ^ 
nate French influence over the papacy, and effect some reforms 
in the papal court, he soon had the hostility of all the cardinals. 
They now got together, four months after his election, declared 
their choice void since dictated by mob violence, and elected 
Cardinal R obert of GenQ.ma3 Pope^Clement VII (fS78-i39*4J. ^ 
A few mon &s lat er Clement VII and jiis cardinals Wiere aettled^^ 
in AvTgnori. There^adlbeen inahy rival Popes before, but 
. tEey had beeiMihosen by different elements. Here were two 
! ^ J^)pes, e ach tau h^ by the same^ body^ of^ cardSMl^. TKe 

^ objection that Urban \'l had been chosen out of fear had little 
force, since the cardinals had recognized him without protest 
for several months; but they had done all they could to undo 
the choice. Europe saw two Popes, each condemning the 
other. There was no power that could decide between them, 
and the several countries followed the one or the other as their 
political affinities dictated. JThe Roman P ope was acknowl- 
edge d. by- nor thern and,cfintrar-ItfliY>,thfi flTfiatfr'nartof .G«r- 
"many, Scandinavia, and England. To the Pope in Avignon, , 
Prance,""Sparri,n5cotlan3, l^ples^ Sicilj^ and some parts of ^ 
Crermahy adh ered. It was a fairly equal d mslon. The^jeat 
ScKkinTiaCTIfei^ ^ and sr>ftn(^fl,tized^ whilft 

IhK t)ap al abuses, especially of taxation, were aug mented, and 
two courts must how be maintaiqe^ AlK)ve all, the profound 
feeling that the church must be visibly one was offended. The 
papMtcy sank enormously in popular regard. 
In Rome Urban VI was succeeded by Boniface IX (1389- 


1404), and lie by Innocent VII (1404-1406), who was followed 
by Gregory XII (1406-1415). In Avignon Clement VII was 
followed by a Spaniard, Peter de Luna, who took the name 
Benedict XIII (1394-1417). 


The English opposition to the encroachments of the Avignon 
papacy has already been noted (ante, p. 295). Other forces 
were also working in the island. Of these that of Thomas 
^Bradwardine (JrJ^^^^),^^ one of the mos t potent in the in- 
"tellectiiar'fealm. Srac^wardin^, who was long an emment th e- 
t)!ogiiBin inUxforj^ jjjad djpd qF TSh terburv, was . a 
leader in the revival of the study of Anprnsf inp wViirh m^rVpH 
the decline ofSchblasticism, and was to grow in influqj^gg^ till 
it profoimdiy affected the Reformation. He taught predesti- 
nation in most positive form; like Anpiistinft . }\e. gnnceived re- 
ligion as primarily a personal relationship of God ancj the soul, 
and emphasized grace m contrast to meri^. I'here were now, 
therefore, other intellectual traditions besides those of later 
nominalistic Scholasticism in the Oxford of Wyclif's sstudent 

John Wyclif (?-1384) was bom in Hipswell in Yorkshire. 
Few details of his early life are known. He entered Balliol 
College, Oxford, of which he became ultimately for a short 
time "master." In Oxford he rose to great scholarly distinc- 
tion, lecturing to large classes, and esteemed the ablest theo- 
logian of its faculty. Philosophically he was a realist, in con- 
trast to the prevailing nominalism of his age. He was deeply 
influenced by Augustine, and through Augustine by Platonic 
conceptions. Wyclif gradually became known outside of Ox- 
ford. In 1374 he was^ pri^tited, by royal app ointment, to 
the rectory of Lutterworth, and the same year was one of the 
King's commissioners — probably theological adviser— - fp irt - 
tempt in Bruges with the representatives of Pope Gre^^dQ^I^^ 
an adjustment of the dispute regarding "proyisors^ (ante, 
p. 295J. In how far these appointments were due to the pow- 
erful son of King Edward III, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancas- 
ter, is uncertain, though he probably regarded Wyclif as likely 
to be useful in his designs on church property; but Wyclif 's 
opinions, if entertained in 1374, cannot then have been widely 


WSrCLIF 299 

known. There is no evidence that the Pope yet looked on him 
with distrust, and recent investigation has shown that his re- 
formatory work did not begin in 1366, as formerly supposed. 

By 1376, however, it was the wealth of the church and cleri- 
cal interference, especially that of the Popes, in political life, 
that aroused hb opposition. He lectured that year in Oxford 
On Civil Lordshiy. Wy clif's view of ecclesiastical office and 
privilege was curiously feudal. God is the_CTeat overlord. He 
gives all positions^ civil and spiritual, as^efs, to be held on 
conditi on of f aitHlul . service. They are lord^ips, not prop- 
erty. God gives the use but not the ownership. If tJifT ns^r 
abuses his tr ust he forfeits his tenure. Hence, a bad. ecclesiastic 
loses all clainO o office, and the temporal possessions of im- 
worthy clergy may well be taken from thein by t|xe civil .nile^, 
to whom God has, given the lordship of temporal things, as He 
"EaSTEat of things spiritual to the church. This doctrine, ad- 
vanced in all simplicity and sincerity, was undoubtedly pleas- 
ing to John of Gaunt and his hungry crew of nobles who hoped 
for enrichment from church spoliation. It was no less satis- 
factory to many commoners, who had long been critical of the 
wealth, pretensions, and too often lack of character of the 
clergy. It was not displeasing to the mendicant orders, who 
had always, in theory at least, advocated "apostolic poverty." 

Wyclif's teaching aroused the opposition of the high clergy, 
the property-holding orders, and of the papacy. Jn 1377 Jbe 
was summoned to answer before the bishop of LoniUuuJVilliam 
Courtenay. Theprotection of John of GaufiJt and JStthsx nobles 
rendered the proceeding, abortive. The sfgae^j^^ea r Pop e 
Gregory Xl issued five bulls ordering Wj^Hf's arrest and ex- 
aminatipn,^ ,^et Wydif enjoyeJtlie "protection oF a strong 
party at court and much popular favor, so that further pro- 
ceedings against him by the archbishop of Canterbury and the 
bishop of London were frustrated in 1378. 

WycUf was now rapidly developing his reformatory activities 
in a flood of treatises in Latin and English. The Scriptures , he. ,. 

"~ n itself 

>the o "|y ^^^ ^f thft rh"''^^ T 

not, as tiie c ommon man imagined, centred in the Pope a nd 

f^Ar|^iTi h^A jj^ hrist. since the Pope ma; 
led. Wydif did not reject the papacy. The church may 

^ Gee and Hardy, pp. 105-108. 


well have an earthly leader, if such a one is like Peter, and 
strives for the simple conditions of early Christianity. Such a 
Pope would be presumably one of the elect. But a Pope who 
grasps worldly power and is eager for taxes is presumptively 
non-elect, and therefore antichrist. With his deeper knowl- 
edge of the Bible, Wydif now attacked the mendicant orders, 
which had supported him in his assertion of apostolic poverty, 
r^arding them as without Scriptural warrant and the main 
pillars of the existing papacy. He was now fighting current 
churchly conditions all along the line. 
WycUf now proceeded to more constructive eflForts. Con« 

vincwl that ^c/Rihlivialhe law of God, Wydif .dgtelHUnS^" 

five it to the people in the English tongue. Rptwi >^p 1.^2 and 
384 the "S criptures were tmnglaf p^ tmm fTi a Yulgff^^ l^at 
share TVycllf haJln the actual work is impossible to say. It 
has been usually thought that the New Testament was from 
his pen, and the Old from that of Nicholas of Hereford. At 
all events, the New Testament translation was vivid, readable, 
and forcefid, and did a service of fimdamental importance for 
the English language — ^to say nothing of English piety. The 
whole was revised about 1388, possibly by Wydif's disdple, 
John Purvey. Its circulation was large. In spite of severe 
repression in the next century, at least one hundred and fifty 
manuscripts survive. 

To bring the Gospel to the people Wyclif began sending out 
his "poor prie sts/' In apostolic poverty , barefoot ^ dad in lo ng 
robes, and witE staff in tKeTEand^' they wandere d two by two, 
as had^e early Waldensian or Franciscan prcaohw»»«**- Unlike 
^e latter, they were bound by no permanent vows. Their 
success was great. 

But events soon lamed the Lollard movemejit^aaJbC-fclkB^" 
ihg of Wyclif was popularly called. Convinced that tiie dect 
are a true priesthood, and that all episcopal claims are un- 
scriptural, Wydif saw in the priestly power of exdusive human 
.agency in the mirade of transubstantiation a main buttress of 
{what he deemed erroneous priestly claim. He t h< 
"'j tacked thb doctrine in 1381. His own view of Christ's pres- 
I ence seems to have been essentially that later known as con- 
substantiation. It was not his positive assertions, but his 
attack, however, that aroused resentment, for to oppose tran- 
substantiation was to touch one of the most popularly cherished 


beliefs of the later Middle Ages. That attack cost Wydif many 
followers and roused the churchly authorities to renewed action. 
This tide of opposition was strengthened by events in 1381, for 
which Wydif was in no way responsible. The imrest of the 
lower orders, which had been growing since the dislocation of 
the labor market by the " black death " of 1348-1350, culminated 
in 1381 in a great peasant revolt, which was with difficulty put 
down. This bloody episode strengthened the party of con- 
servatism. In 1382 the archbishop of Canterbury held a I 
synod in London by which twenty-four Wyclifite opinions were - 
condenmed.^ Wyclif was no longer able to lecture in Oxford. / 
His "poor priests" were arrested. He was too strong in popu- 
lar and courtly support, however, to be attacked personally, 
and he died still possessed of his pastorate in Lutterworth on 
the last day of 1384. 

No small element in Wyclif 's power was that he was thought 
to have no scholastic equal in contemporary England. Men 
hesitated to cross intellectual swords with him. Equally con- 
spicuous were his intense patriotism and his deep piety. He 
voiced the popular resentment of foreign papal taxation and "^ 
greed, and the popular longing for a simpler, more Biblical 
faith. It was his misfortune tiiat he left no follower of con- 
spicuous ability to carry on his work in England. Yet through- 
out the reign of Richard II (1377-1399) the Lollard movement 
continued to grow. With the accession of the usurping house 
of Lancaster in the person of Henry IV (1399-1413), the King, 
anxious to placate the church, was persuaded to secure the pas- 
sage in 1401 of the statute De TuBtetico comburendo^ under which 
a number of Lollards were burned. Henry IV spared Lollards 
in hiph la y station . Not so his son, Henry V (1413-1422). Un- 
der him their most conspicuous leader, Sir John Oldcastle, Lord 
Cobham, a man of the sternest religious prindples, whom tra- 
dition and dramatic license transformed into the figure of 
Falstaff, was condenmed, driven into rebellion, and executed . 
in 1417. With his death the political significance of Lollardy " 
in England was at an end, though adherents continued in 
secret till the Reformation. Wydif 's chief influence was to be 
in Bohemia rather than in the land of his birth. 

Bohemia had undergone a remarkable intellectual and i)oliti- 
cal development in the fourteenth century. The Holy Roman 

1 Gee and Hardy, pp. lOS-llO. ^Ibid,, pp. 133-135. 


Empftror, Tharlftfl TV n. '^ 46-1 378) was also Km^ of Bi 
1^ did much for that land, in 1344 lie secured' the establish- 
ment of Prague as an archbishopric, releasing Bohemia from ec- 
clesiastical dependence on Mainz. Four years later he procured 
the foundation of a university in Prague. In no country of 
E urope was the chur c h mor e larjrely a landholder, or tbe derg r 
more worldly than in Bohemia. Charles IV was not unfriendly 
ttr moral reforiliV Hiirihg" and ToI Towing hts ^ reign a serie s of 
presEEchers 'of ^trweoiflf red ^B o Ee i a i ai a tt a cking tb» a e oylariTH- 
tion of the church . Such w^i^ r.nnr^H rJ W<^lfih^y<yn f ?-1369), 
Milled ot J^msier ( ?-1374), Matthias of Ja nov ( ?-1394), and 
Thomas of Stitny (l^SI^HDiyT Tliese alTopposecl clerical cor- 
AUpiion, cmuhasIiAe d'^e'^ripfiiirfta as the rule of life„ and 

m ght a more frequent participation in the ^liord^s fj yp py. 

[ilicz and Matthias taugnt that antichrist was at hand, anJ 
was manifest in an unworthy clergy. These men had little 
direct influence on Huss, but they stirred Bohemia to a readi- 
ness to accept his teachings. 

Bohemia was torn, furthermore, by intense rivalry between 
the Germanic and the Slavonic (Czech) elements of the popu- 
lation. The latter was marked by a strong desire for racial 
supremacy and Bohemian autonomy. 

Curiously, also, Bohemia, hitherto so little associated with 
England, was brought into connection with that country by 
the marriage of the Bohemian princess, Anna, to King Ridi- 
ard II, in 1383. Bohemian students were attracted to Oxford, 
and thence brought Wydif's doctrines and writings into their 
native land, especially to the University of Prague. TTie gre at 
propagator of Bohemian Wydifism was to be Joh n HuSl in 
jwhom, also, all Czech national aspiratioas wfi]£ JtoZEave an 
^ardent advocate. It was this combination of religious and j Mr 
triotic zeal that gave Huss his remarkable power of lea£u£^. 

John Huss was born, of peasant parentage, in Husinecz, 
whence he derived his name by abbreviation, about the year 
1373. His studies were completed in the University of Prague, 
where he became Bachelor of Theology in 1394, and Master of 
Arts two years later. In 1401 he was ordained to the priest- 
hood, still maintaining a teaching connection with the univer- 
sity, of which he was ''rector" in 1402. Meanwhile Huss had 
become intimately acquainted with Wydif's philosophical 
treatises, with the "realism" of which he sympathized. Wyo- 


lifs religious works, known by Huss certainly from 1402, won 
his approbation, and henceforth Huss was, theologically, a 
disciple of Wyclif. More conservative than his niaster, he 
did not deny transuTbstentiatu)n71)ut Bke him Tie held the 

ijjiot the Pope, but riiriat^ jinH nf lyf^irlj^ thc Ift^ i'*^ ^h^ Nft^ 
Testament, and its life tLat of Christ-Iike^poverty^. Though 
the publication" of HiissV coniiSrentary "^bn the Serdences of 
Peter Lombard has led to a higher estimate of his scholarly 
gifts than formerly prevailed, it is certain that in his sermons 
and treatises Huss usually reproduced not only the thoughts 
"^Sut the language of Wychf . 

Tn 1402 Huss became preacher at the Bethlehem chapel, in 
Prague, and soon gained immense popular following through 
his fiery sermons in the Bohemian. language. Though Wyc- 
lifite views were condenmed by the majority of the university 
in 1403, Huss's preaching had, at first, the support of the 
archbishop, Zbynek (1403-1411) ; but his criticisms of the 
clergy gradually turned this favor into opposition, which was 
increased as Huss's essential agreement with Wyclif constantly 
became more evident. New causes of dissent speedily arose. 
In the schism Bohemia had held to the Roman Pope, Gregory 
XII (1406-1415). As a step toward the healing of the breach 
King Wenzel of Bohemia now favored a policy of neutrality 
between the rival Popes. Huss and the Bohemian element 
in the university supported Wenzel. Archbishop Zbynek, the 
German clergy, and the German portion of the university clung 
to Gregory XII. Wenzel therefore, in 1409, arbitrarily changed 
the constitution of the imiversity, giving the foreign majority 
one vote in its decisions and the Bohemians three, thus com- 
pletely reversing the previous proportion. The immediate re- 
sult was the secession of the foreign elements and the founda- 
tion, in 1409, of the Universily of Leipzig. This Bohemian 
nationalist victory, of doubtful permanent worth or right, 
Huss fully shared. Its immediate consequences were that he 
became lie first "rector" of the newly regulated university, 
and enjoyed a hieh degree of courtly favor. His views were 
now spreading widely m Bohemia. 

Meanwhile the luckless Council of Pisa had run its course 
(1409) (see p. 307). Zbynek now supported its Pope, Alexander 
V (1409-1410), to whom he complained of the spread of Wye- 


Ijfite opinions in Bohemia, and by whom he was commissioned 
to root them out. Huss protested, and was excommunicated 
by Zbynek in 1410. JThe result was great popular tumult in 

PopeJohn XXIII (14107l415)jLpromise4 indulge nce to all who 
should take part ia.ajccimde atgaiD^t King t.fidiHlq,iia"nf fsi^pifts. 
Huss opposed, holding that the Pope had no rifrht to i ^^ phv si- 
'cal^force^tBat "money payments effected' no true iforgiveness, 
and, unless of the piedestinate, the indulgence could be of no 
value to a man. The result was an uproar. The Pope's buD 
was burned by the populace. Huss, however, lost many 
strong supporters in the university and elsewhere, and was 
once more exconununicated, while Prague was placed under 
papal interdict. Wenzel now persuaded Huss, late in 1412, to 
go into exile from Prague. To this period of retirement is 
due the composition of his chief work — essentially a reproduce 
tion of Wyc lif— the De Ecclesia (On the Chu rch). In 1413 a 
synod in tlome7ormally condemned Wyclif^s wri tings. 
"The great Council of Constance (see*p."308} was approac hing, 
and the confusion in Bohemia was certain 16 deinandjj 

sideration. Huss was asked to present himself before it, and 
ph)mised a "safe-conduct," afterward received, by the Holy 
Roman Emperor, Sigismund. Huss, though he felt his life in 
grave peril, determined to go, partly believing it his duty to 
bear witness to what he deemed the truth, and partly convinced 
that he could bring the council to his way of thinking. Shortly 
after his arrival in Constance he was imprisoned. Sigismund 
disregarded his promised safe-conduct. His Bohemian enemies 
laid bitter charges against him. On May 4, 1415, the council 
condemned Wyclif, and ordered his long-buried body burned. 
Huss could hope for no favorable hearing. Yet, in the end, 
the struggle resolved itself into a contest of principles. The 
council maintained. that every Christian, was boun djto sub mit 
to its decisions. Only by so holding could it hope t o end the 
papal schism which was the scandal of Christendoio! It in- 
sisted on Huss's complete submission. The Bohemlkri ffefur mer 
was of heroic mould. 'He would play no tricks with tis c on- 
science. Some of the accusations he declared false' charges. 
Other positions he could not modify unless convinced of their 
error. Hie would not submit his conscience to the ovemilmg 


judgment of the council. On July 6, 1415, he was condenmed » 
and burned, meeting his death with the most steadfast cour- / 
age. , ' 

While Huss was a prisoner in Constance his followers in 
Prague began administering the cup to the laity in the Lord's 
Supper — an action which Huss approved and which soon be- 
came the badge of the Hussite movement. The news of Huss's , 
death aroused the utmost resentment in Bohemia, to which ^ 
fuel was added when the Council of Constance forbade the use 
^f th e cup by Iaynien/"an3''cauie3 H^^ disciplcj Jerome of 
J^Sgue^ to 15e! burned in 1416. .Bohemia was in revolution. 

Two pfljl^ifg apppflily HpvplnppH tliPrP — sip fin'gfnprfttiV, haying 

i js princ ipal seat in Prague, and known as the Utraquists 
(communion in both bread and wine), and a radical^ democratic, 
callidiEQm its fortreaa^.thg 'y aboj ites. 

The I^trayuiatuafould forbid only those practices which they 
deemed prohibited by the "law of God," i. e., the Bible. They 
demiEinded free preaching of the Gospel, the cup for .the lait^-, 
apostolic poverty, and strict clericaT life. The Taborites re- 
ajdiated dl.iirai^^ e^Bress, warrant could not be 

(g und in the "law of God." Fierce quarrel existed between 
these factions, but both united to resist repeated crusades 
directed against Bohemia. Under the leadership of the blind 
Taborite general, John Zizka».all attempts to crush the Huss- 
ites were bloodily defeated. Church property was largely 
confiscated. Nor were the opponents of the Hussites more 
successful after Zizka's death in 1424. Under Prokop the 
Great the Hussites carried the war beyond the borders of 
Bohemia. Some compromise seemed unavoidable. The Coun- 
cil of B,Qg^l (see p. 310), after long nejgotiatiQP, .therefore, met 
the wishes of the Utraquists part way in 1433, granting the 
use of the cup, and in a measure the other demands outlined 
above. The Taborites resisted and were almost swept away 
by the Utraquists, in 1434, at the battle of Lipan, in which 
Prokop was killed. The triumphant Utraquists now came to 
an agreement with the Council of Basel, in 1436, and on these 
terms were nominally given place in the Roman communion. 
Yet, in 1462 Pope Pius II (1458-1464) declared this agreement 
void. The Utraquists, nevertheless, held their own, and the 
Bohemian Parliament, in 1485 and 1512, declared their full 
equality with the Catholics. At the Reformation a considera- 



ble portion welcomed the newer ideas ; others then returned to 
the Roman Church. 

The real representatives of Wydifite principles were the 
Taborites rather than the Utraquists. Out of the general 
Hussite movement, with elements drawn from Taborites, Utra- 
quists, and Waldenses, rather than exclusively from the Tabor- 
ites there grew, from about 1453, ^^^i ^fltftlf ^i^^'^^% wKinli 
absorbed much that was most vital in the HuSitemovement, 
and became the spiritual ancestor of the later Moravians (see 
pp. 502, 503). 

Wydif and Huss have often been styled forerunners of the 
Reformation. The designation is true if regard is had to their 
protest against the corruption of the churdi, their exaltation 
of the Bible, and their contribution to the sum total of agita- 
tion that ultimately resulted in reform. When their doctrines 
are examined, however, they appear to belong rather to the 
Middle Ages. Their conception of the Gospel was that of a 
''law." Their place for faith was no greater than in the 
Roman communion. Their thought of the church was a one- 
sided development of Augustinianism. Their conception of 
the relation of the clergy to property is that common to the 
Waldenses and the founders of the great mendicant orders. 
Their religious earnestness commands deep admiration, but in 
spite of Luther's recognition of many points of agreement with 
Huss, the Reformation owed little to their efforts. 


The papal schism was the scandal of Christendom, but its 
termination was not easy. The logic of medieeval develop- 
ment was that no power exists on eisurth to which the papacy 
is answerable. Yet good men everywhere felt that the scbism 
must be ended, and ^t the church must be reformed ''in head 
and members" — ^that is, in the papacy and clergy. The re- 
forms desired were moral and administrative. Doctrinal modi- 
fications were as yet unwished by Christendom as a whole. A 
Wyclif might proclaim them in England, but he was generally 
esteemed a heretic. Foremost among those who set themselves 
seriously to the task of healing the sdiism were the teachers of 
the age, especially those of the University of Paris. Marcus of 
Padua had there proclaimed the supremacy of a general ooun- 


dl in his Drfefnsor Pads of 1324. The necessities of the situa^ / 
lion rather than his arguments were rapidly leading to the samel 
conclusion. It was presented firsj^with clearness by a doctor 
of canon lawT'then in Paris, Cnn rarf nf^'^fff^f] ^jy [() ^^20 ?~ 

writte n treatises of 1379 and 1380. to "J^Jlf ..TtJ^ QtihfiT pr"^« 
m callm^ a ccmncUj u^jtecess^ wifTniit_tliP_fy{pypt ojf fH*^ 
rival Popes. ConraiT wenf no"nS3ier than to nold that such 


a Goundl was justified by the necessities of an anomalous 
situation. Conrad's proposal was reinforced, in such fashion 
as to rob him of the popular credit of its origination, by the 
treatise of another German scholar at the University of Paris, 
Heinrich of Langenstein (1340?-1397), set forth in 1381. 

The thought of a general council as the best means of healing 
the schism, thus launched, made speedy converts, not only in 
the University of Paris, but in the great school of canon law in 
Bologna, and even among the ourdinals. To call a council 
presented many difficulties, however, and the leaders at Paris, 
Peter of Ailli (Pierre d'Ailli) (1350-1420) and John (Person 
(Jean Charlier de Grerson) (1363-1429), famed for their mastery 
of nominalistic theology, and the latter eminent among Chris- 
tian mystics, were slow to adopt the conciliar plan. Efforts 
were vainly made for years to induce the rival Popes to resign. 
France withdrew from the Avignon Pope, without recognizing 
the Roman, from 1398 to 1403, and agam in 1408 ; but its ex- 
ample found slight following elsewhere. By 1408 d'Ailli and 
Grerson had come to see in a council the only hope, and were 
supported by Nicholas of Cl&nanges (1367-1437), a former 
teacher of the Parisian university who had been papal secretary 
in Avignon from 1397 to 1405, to whom one great source of 
evil in the church seemed the general neglect of the Scriptures. ' 

The cardinals of both Popes were now convinced of the 
necessity of a coimcil. Meeting together in Leghorn, in 1408, 
they now issued a call in their own names for such an assembly 
in Pisa, to gather on March 25, 1409. There it met with an 
attendance not only of cardinab, bishops, the heads of the great 
orders, and leading abbots, but also of doctors of theology and 
canon law, and the representatives of lay sovereigns. Neither / 
Pope was present or acknowledged its rightfulness. £QtL.T^cje^ 
declared JaBPgfidL ^ This Vft3 ft practicftl. A§J^rtion,tbat>Jthe 
council was superior to the papacy. Its action, however, was 


too hasty, for instead of ascertaining, as d'Ailli advised, whether 
the person of the proposed new Pope would be generally ac- 
ceptable, the cardinals now elected Peter Philarg^s, archbishop 
of Milan, who took the name Alexander V (1409-1410). The 
council then dissolved, leaving the question of reform to a 
future council. 

In some respects the situation was worse than before the 
Council of Pisa met. Rome, Naples, and considerable sections 

fjrermany clung to Gregory XII. Spain, Portugal, and Soot- 
i supported Benedict XIII. England, France, and some 
tions of Grermany acknowledged Alexander V. There were 
3e Popes where before there had been two. Yet, though 
managed, the Council of Pisa was a mark of progress. It 
had shown that the church was one, and it increased the hope 
that a better council could end the schism. This assembly 
had been called by the cardinals. For such invitation history 
had no precedent. A siunmons by the Emperor, if pos^ble 
with the consent of one or more of the Popes, would be con- 
sonant with the practice of the early church. To that end 
those supporting the council idea now labored. 

The new Holy Roman Emperor-elect, Sigismund (1410- 
1437), was convinced of the necessity of a council. He recog- 
nized as Pope John XXIII (1410-1415), one of the least worthy 
of occupants of that office, who had been chosen successor to 
Alexander V in the Pisan line. Sigismund used John's diffi- 
culties with King Ladislaus of Naples, to secure from him 
joint action by which Emperor-elect and Pope called a council 
to meet in CsPStanfift on Noypmher 1, JAlC . ThfiC£Llbfija>st 
J)rilliant and largely attended gathering* of flip MiHH)^ f^gt^ 
^assembled. As in Pisa, it indudod not .only jca£diDal&..And 
bishops, but doctors of theology and representati ves of m on- 
archs, though the lay delegates were without votes. !Si^smund 
' was present in person, and also John XXIII. 
I John XXIII hoped to secure the indorsement of the council. 
To this end he had brought with him many Italian bishops. 
To neutralize their votes the council organized by "nations," 
the English, German, and French, to which the Italians were 
forced to join as a fourth. Each "nation" had one vote, and 
one was assigned also to the cardinals. Despairing of the 
council's approval, John XXIII attempted to disrupt its ses- 
sion by ffight, in March, 1415. Under Gerson's vigorous lead- 


ership the council, however, declared on April 6, 1415, that as 
"representing the Catholic Church militant [it] has its power 
immediately from Christ, and every one, whatever his position 
or rank, even if it be the papal dignity itself, is bound to obey 
it in all those things which pertain to the faith, to the healing 
of the schism, and to the general reformation of the Church of 
God."^ On May 29 the council declared John XXIH deposed. 
On July 4 Gregory XII resigned. The council had rid the . 
church of two Popes by its successful assertion of its supreme / 
authority over all in lie church. It is easy to see why it^ 
leaders insisted on a full submission from Huss, whose triw 
and martyrdom were contemporary with these events {arje^ 
p. 304). 

Benedict XIII proved more difficult. Sigismund himself, 
therefore, joiumeyed to Spain. Benedict he could not persuade 
to resign, and that obstinate pontiff asserted himself till death, 
in 1422 or 1423, as the only legitimate Pope. What Sigismund 
was imable to effect with Benedict he accomplished with the 
Spanish kingdoms. They and Scotland repudiated Benedict 
The Spaniards joined the council as a fifth ''nation," and, on 
July 26, 1417, Benedict, or Peter de Luna, as he was once more 
called, was formally deposed. The careful action of the coun- 
cil, in contrast to the haste in Pisa, had made it certain that 
no considerable section of Christendom would support the 
former Popes. 

One main purpose of the council had been moral and ad- 
ministrative reform. Here the jealousies of the several inter- 
ests prevented achievement of real importance. The cardinals 
desired no changes that would materially lessen their revenue. 
Italy, on the whole, profited by the existing situation. England 
had relative self-government already in ecclesiastical affairs, 
thanks to its Kings. France was at war with England, and 
indisposed to imite with that land. So it went, with the result i 
that the coimcil finally referred the question of reforms to the / 
next Pope "in conjunction with this holy council or with the/ 
deputies of the several nations" — ^that is» each nation was left' 
to make the best bargain it could. The council eniunerated 
a list of subjects for reform discussion, which relate almost 
entirely to questions of appointment, taxation, or administra- 
tion.* As a reformatory instrument the Council of Constance 

s Robinson, 1 : 511. > /bid., 1 : 513. 



was a bitter disappointments Its one great achievement was 
-J jhai IT ended ihe schistn^ In Movembfa^ lUJ, tne caitunals, 
witb SIX ripreuellUlKiVesirom each nation, elected a Roman 
cardinal, Otto Colonna, as Pope. He took the name Martin V 
(1417-1431). Roman Christendom had once more a single 
head. In April, 1418, the comicil ended, the new Pope prom- 
ising to call another in five years, in compliance with the de- 
cree of the comidl.^ 
\ r The Comicil of Constance was a most interesting ecdesiasti-N 
^ cal experiment. It secmied the transformation of the papacy 
from an absolute into a constitutional monarchy. The Pope . 
was to remain the executive of the church, but was to be regu- f 
lated by a legislative body, meeting at frequent intervals an4/ 
representing idl interests in Christendom. 

It seem^ that this great constitutional change had really 
been accomplished. Martin V called the new council to meet 
in Pavia in 1423. The plague prevented any considerable 
attendance. The Pope would gladly have had no more of 
councils. The Hussite wars distressed Europe, however (ante, 
p. 305), and such pressure was brought to bear on him that in 
January, 1431, Martin V summoned a council to meet in Basel, 
and appointed Cardinal Giuliano Cesarini his legate to con- 
duct it. Less than two months later Martin V was dead and 
Eugene IV (1431-1447) was Pope. The council opened in 
^ib^iSl^but in December Eugene ordered it adjourned, to 
meet m BSfogna in 1433. The coimcil refused, and re-enacted 
the declarauon oi Constance that it was superior to the Pope. 
Thus, almost from the first, bad feeling existed between the 
Coimcil of Base l and the papacy. Mindful that jealousies be- 
ItwCBIl '*l5Bffl8^iad frustrated the reform plans in Constance, 
the coimcil rejected such groupings, and instead organized four 
large conunittees, on reform, doctrine, public peace, and general 
questions. It began its work with great vigor and promise of 
succeas. It made an apparent reconciliation with the mod«^ 
ate Hussites in 1433 (antey p. 305). Roman unity seemed re- 
stored. The Pope foimd littie sui^rt and, before the dose 
of 1433, formally recognized the council. Its future seemed 

^ Ttje Cyi jpc^l nf Rack^I nnw proceeded to those administrative 
and moral reforms which had failed of achievement at Om« 

1 Robinson, 1 : 512. 


stance. It ordered the holding of a synod m each diocese an- 
nually^ and in each archbishopric every two years> in which 
abuses should be examined and corrected. It provided for a 
general council every ten years. It reasserted the ancient 
rights of canonical election against papal api)omtmd |ite. It 
limited appeals to Rome. It fixed the cardinds at twen^lPour 
in number, and ordered that no nation should be represented 
by more than a third of the college. It cut off the annates and 
the other more oppressive papal taxes entirely. All this was 
good, but the spirit in which it was done was increasingly a 
vindictive attitude toward Pope Eugene. The taxes by which 
the papacy had heretofore been maintained were largely abol- 
ished, but no honorable support of the papacy was provided in 
their stead. This failure not only increaised the anger of the 
papac*y but caused division in the coimcil itself. At this point 
a great opportunity presented itself, of which Eugene IV made 
full use, and r^ardmg which the council so put itself in the 
wrong as to ruin its prospects. 

The Eastern empire was now hard pressed in its final strug- 
gles with the conquering Turks. In the hope of gaining help 
from the West the Emperor, John VIII (1425-1448), with the 
patriarch of Constantinople, Joseph II (1416-1439) and Bes- 
sarion (1395-1472), the gifted archbishop of Nicsea, were ready 
to enter into negotiation for the union of the Greek and Latin 
Churches. Both Pope and council were disposed to use this 
approach for their several advantage. The majority of the 
council would have the Greeks come to Avignon. The Pope 
offered an Italian city, which the Greeks naturally preferred. 
The council divided on the issue in 1437, the minority seceding, 
including Cesarini. The Pope now announced the transferrence 
of the council to Ferrara to meet the Greeks. Thither the 
minority went, and there in March, 1438, the Eastern Emperor, 
with many Oriental prelates, arrived. The Pope had practi- 
cally won. An event so full of promise as the reunion of 
Christendom robbed the still continuing Coimcil of Basel of 
much of its interest. 

The Council of Ferrara, which was transferred to Florence 
in 1439, witnessed protracted discussion between Greeks and 
Latins, in which as a final result the primacy of the Pope was 
accepted in vague terms, which seemed to preserve the rights 
of the Eastern patriarchs, the Greeks retained their peculiarities 



of worship and priestly marriage, while the dispute^Mjoqve 
clause of the cre«d was acknowledged by the Greeks, tkough 
with the understanding that they would not add it to the 
ancient symbol. Mark, the vigorous archbishop of Ephesus, re- 
fused agreement, but the Emperor and.most of his ecclesiastical 
following approved, and the reunion of the two churches was 
joyfully proclaimed in July, 1439. An event so happy greatly 
increased the prestige of Pope Eugene IV. The hollowness of 
the achievement was not at once apparent. Reunions with 
the Armenians, and with certain groups of Monophysites and 
Nestorians, were also announced in Florence or speedily after 
the council. The reconciliation of the Armenians in 1439 was 
the occasion of a famous papal bull defining the mediaeval doc- 
trine of the sacraments. Yet from the first the Oriental monks 
were opposed. On the Greeks* return Mark of Ephesus became 
the hero of the hour. Bessarion, whom Eugene had made a 
cardinal, had to fly to Italy, where he was to have a distin- 
guished career of literary and ecclesiastical service. No effi- 
cient military help came to the Greeks from the West, and the 
captiu*e of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453 permanently 
frustrated those political hopes which had inspired the union 
efforts of 1439. 

Meanwhile the majority in Basel proceeded to more radical 
action under the leadership of its only remaining cardinal, the 
able and excellent but dictatorial Louis d'Allemand (1380?- 
1450). In 1439 it voted Eugene IV deposed, and chose as his 
successor a half-monastic layman, Duke Amadeus of Savoy, 
who took the name Felix V. By this time, however, the Coun- 
cil of Basel was fast losing its remaining influence. Eugene IV 
had won, and was succeeded in Rome by Nicholas V (1447— 
1455). Felix V laid down his impossible papacy in 1449. Ilie 
council put the best face on its defeat by choosing Nicholas V 
his successor, and ended its troubled career. Though the coun- 
cil idea still lived and was to be powerful in the Reformation 
age, the fiasco in Basel had really ruined the hope of trans- 
forming the papacy into a constitutional monarchy or of effect- 
ing needed reform through concUiar action. 

Yet if the council thus failed, individual nations profited by 
its quarrel with the papacy, notably France, where the mon- 
archy was coming into new power through effective resistance 
to England under impidses initiated by Joan of Arc (1410?- 



1431). In 1438 Kmg Charles VII (1422-1461), with the dergy 
and nobles, adopted the ** pragmatic sanction^' nf fJQyiyry}. h^r 
which the greater part of the reforms attempted in Basel were 
enacted into law for France. Prance therefore secured relief 
from the most pressing papal taxes and interferences, and this 
freedom had nbt a little to do with the attitude of the land 
previous to the Reformation age. 

Not so fortunate was Germany. There the nobles in the 
Reichstag in Mainz of 1439 adopted an '^ acceptation" much J 
resembling the French "pragmatic sanction"; but the divisions 
and weakness of the country gave room to papal intrigue, so 
that its provisions were practically limited by the Concordat / 
of Aschaifenburg of 1448. Certain privileges were granted to 
particular princes; but Germany, as a whole, remained under 
the weight of the papal taxation. 

_, Throughout th^ pyriod of t l)^ pniiTjgj Ia a paw fo r^g wj^ [ff^"^-^ 
resting ii seiir—tb a t nt pati onalit j y^ Tne Council of Constance 
li'ad voted by nations. It had authorized the nations to make 
terms with the papacy. Bohemia had dealt with its religious 
situation as a nation. France had asserted its national rights. 
Germany had tried to do so. With the failure of the coimcils 
to effect administrative reform, men began asking whether what 
they had sought might not be secured by national action. It 
was^_Jfieling that wa s to inrreaae tilLtbfi-Bfifdmiation, aSa 


ho JT^fTii^ nce the course of that struf^gle. 


SECTION xrvr. the Italian renaissance and rrs popes 

The most remarkable intellectual event contemporary with 
the story of the papacy in Avignon and the schism was the be- 
ginning of the Renaissance. That great alteration in mental 
outlook has been treated too often as without mediaeval ante- 
cedents. It is coming to be recognized that the Middle Ages 
were not uncharacterized by individual initiative, that the con- 
trol of the church was never such as to make other-worldliness 
wholly dominant, and that the literary monuments of Latin 
antiquity, aMsast, were widely known. The revival of Roman 
law had begun contemporaneously with the Crusades, and had 
attracted increasing attention to that normative feature of 
ancient thought, first in Italy and later in France and Germany. 
Yet when all these elements are recognized, it remains true that 


the Renaissance involved an essentiaUy new outlook on the 
world, in which emphasis was laid on its present life, beauty, 
and satisfaction — on man as man — rather than on a future 
heaven and hell, and on man as an object of salvation or ci 
loss. The means by which this transformation was wrought 
was a reappreciation of the spirit of classical antiquity^ espe- 
cially as manifested in its great literary monuments^.^ 

The Renaissance first found place in Italy. I^ rise was 

favored by many influences, among which three, at least, were 

nspicuous. T^e two great dominating powers of the Middle 

i, the papacy and empire, were suddenly lamed, as far as 

taly was concerned, by the collapse ^ the imperial power in the 

atter part of the thirteenth century and the removal of the pa- 

to Avignon early in the fourteenth. The conmieroe of It- 

^ aly, fostered by the Crusades and continuing after their dose, 
had led to a higher cultural development in tibe peninsula than 
elsewhere in Europe. The intense division of Italian pditics 
gave to the cities a quality of life not elsewhere existent, ren- 

^ dering local recognition of talent easy, and tending to empha- 
size individualism. 

I The earliest Italian in whom the Renaissance spirit was a 
dominating force was Petrarch (1304r'1374). Brought up m 
j\vignon, and in clerical orders, his real interest was in the 
revival of Latin literature, especially the writings of Cicero. 
A diligent student, and above all a man of letters, he was the 
friend of princes, and a figure of international influence. Scho- 
lasticism he despised. Aristotle he condemned. Though really 
religious in feeling, however lacking in practice, his point of 
view was very unlike the mediaeval. He had, moreover, that 
lack of profound seriousness, that egotistical vanity and that 
worship of form rather than of substance which were to be 
characteristic of much of Italian humanism; but he aroused 
men to a new interest in antiquity and a new world-outlook. 
Petrarch's friend and disciple was Bocc^pcio (1313-1375), now 
' chiefly retnembered for his Decameron, but greatly influential in 
his own age in promoting the study of Greek, in unlocking the 
mysteries of classical mythology, and in furthering humanistic 
studies in Florence and Naples. 

^ Greek may never have died out in southern Italy, but its 
hiunanistic cultivation began when, in 1360, Boccaccio brought 
Leontius Pilatus to Florence. About 1397 GreeE was taught, 


under the auspices of the government of the same city, by 
Manuel Chrysoloras (13557-1415), who translated Homer and 
Plato. The Council of Ferrara and Florence (1438-1439) {arde, 
p. 311) greatly fostered this^esire t6~ master the treasures of 
the East by bringing Greeks and Latins together. Bessarion ) 
{anie^ p. 312) thenceforth aided the work. To the influence of J 
Gemistos Plethon (1355-1450), another Greek attendant on this 
reimion council, was due the founding of the Platonic Academy, 
about 1442, by Cosimo de' Medici (1389-1464), the real ruler | 
of Florence. There the study of Plato was pursued ardently, ' 
later, under the leadership of Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499). 
Ficino, who became a priest, combined an earnest Christianity 
with his platonic enthusiasm. He believed a return to the Chris- 
tian sources the chief need of the time — a feeling not shared ^ "^ 
by the majority of Italian humanists, but to be profoundly 
influential beyond the Alps, as propagated by his admirers, 
Jacques Le FSvre in France and John Colet in England. Colet, 
in turn, transmitted it to Erasmus. Almost as influential was 
Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494), whose zeal for Hebrew and 
knowledge of the Kabala were to influence Reuchlin. 

Historical criticism was developed by Lorenzo Valla (1405- 
1457), who exposed the falsity of the Donation of Constantine 
{arde^ p. 204) about 1440, and denied the composition of the 
Apostles' Creed by the Aposties. He criticised the rightfulness 
of monastic vows, and laid the foundation of New Testament 
studies^ in 1444, by a comparison of the Vulgate with the Greek. 

An examination of the dates just given will show that the 
Renaissance movement in Italy was in full development before 
the fall of Constantinople, in 1453. By the middle of the fif- 
teenth century it was dominating the educated class in Italy. 
In general, its attitude toward the church was one of indiffer- 
ence. It revived widely a pagan point of view, and sought to 
reproduce the life of antiquity in its vices as well as its virtues. 
Few periods in the world's history have been so boastfully cor- 
rupt as that of the Italian Renaissance. 

The Renaissance movement was given wings by a great in- 
vention, about 1440-1450r-that of pr inting from movable 
type. Whether Mainz or Strassburg, in Germany, or Haarlem 
in Holland was its birthplace is still a matter of learned dispute. 
The art spread with rapidity, and not only rendered the posses- 
sion of the many the books which had heretofore been the 


property of the few, but, from the multiplication of copies, 
made the results of learning practically indestructible. More 
than thirty thousand publications were issued before 1500. 

No mention of the Renaissance could fail to note its services 
to art. Beginnings of better things had been made, indeed, 
in Italy before its influence was felt. Cimabue (1240?-1302?), 
Giotto (1267 M337), and Fra Angelico (1387-1455) belong to 
the pre-Renaissance epoch, remarkable as is their work. \^th 
Masaccio (1402-1429), Filippo Lippi (1406-1469), Botticelli 
(1444-1510), and Ghirlandajo (1449-1494), painting advanced 
through truer knowledge of perspective, greater anatomical 
accuracy, and more effective grouping to the full noonday of 
a Leonardo da Vmci (1452-1519), a Raphael Sanzio (1483- 
1520), a Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564), and their 
mighty associates. Sculpture received a similar impulse in 
the work of Ghiberti (1378-1455), and DonateUo (1386-1466) ; 
while architecture was transformed by Brunelleschi (1379-1446), 
Bramante (1444?-1514), and Michelangelo. Most of the work 
of these great artists, however classical in motive, was wrought 
in the service of the church. 

The most conspicuous early seat of the Italian Renaissance 
^ was PTorence, though it was influential m many cities. With the 
papacy oTNicholas V (1447-1455), it found, for the first time, 
a mighty patron in the head of the church, and Rome became 
its chief home. To him the foundation of the Vatican library 
was due. The next Pope, Alfonso Borgia, a Spaniard, who 
took the name Calixtus III (1455-1458), was no friend of hu- 
manism, and was earnestly though fruitlessly, intent on a 
crusade that should drive the Turks from the recently con- 
"' quered Constantinople. In Enea Silvio Kccolomini, who ruled 
as Pius II (1458-1464), the papacy had a remarkable occupant. 
* In early life a supporter of the conciliar movement, and active 
at the Council of Basel, he had won distinction as a humanistic 
writer of decidedly underical tone. Reconciled to Eugene IV, 
he became a cardinal, and ultimately Pope, now opposing all 
the conciliar views that he had once supported, and forbidding 
future appeals to a general council. His efforts to stir Europe 
against the Turks were unavailing. Yet, in spite of his chang- 
ing and self-seeking attitude, he had the most worthy concep- 
tion of the duties of the papal office of any Pope of the latter 
half of the fifteenth century. The succeeding Popes, till after 


the dawn of the Reformation^ were patrons of letters and 
artists, great builders who adorned Rome and felt the full 
impulse of the Renaissance. 4 

Meanwhile a change had come over the ideals and ambitions 
of the papacy. The stay in Avignon and the schism had ren- 
dered effective control in the States of the Church impossible. 
They were distracted by the contests of the people of Rome, 
and especially by the rivalries of the noble houses, notably 
those of the Colonna and the Orsini. Italy had gradually 
consolidated into five large states, Venice, Milan, Florence, 
Naples, or the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, as it was called, 
and the States of the Church, though many smaller territories 
remained outside these larger groups, and were objects of con- 
test. The politics of Italy became a kaleidoscopic effort to 
extend the possessions of the larger powers, and to match one 
against the other, in which intrigue, murder, and duplicity were 
employed to an almost unexampled extent. 

Into this game of Italian politics the papacy now fully 
plunged. Its desire was to consolidate and increase the States 
of the Church and maintain political independence. Its ambi- 
tions and its aims were like tiiose of other Italian rulers. The i"*^ 
I>apacy became secularized as at no other period in its history,/ 
save possibly the tenth century. Martin V (1417-1431), the/ 
Pope chosen at the Coimcil of Constance, himself a Colonna,! 
succeeded, in a measure, in restoring papal authority in Rome. 
His successor, Eugene IV (1431-1447), was not so fortunate, 
and spent a large part of his pontificate in Florence. Nicholas 
V (1447-1455), the humanist, effectively controlled Rome and 
strengthened the papal authority — a policy which was con- 
tinued by Calixtus III (1455-1458), Pius II (1458-1464), and 
Paul^ II (1464-1471). With Sixtus IV (1471-1484) political 
ambition took almost complete control of the papacy. He 
warred with Florence, he sought to enrich and advance his 
relatives, he aimed to extend the States of the Church. A 
patron of learning, he built extensively. The Sistine Chapel 
preserves his name. All these endeavors required money, and 
he increased papal taxation and the financial abuses of the 
cniria. He made into an article of faith the wide-spread belief 
that indulgences are available for souls in purgatory by a bull 
of 1476.1 

^ Kidd, DocumenU lUuatrative of the ConHnentdl R^annaHcn, p. 3. 


The next Pope, Innocent VIII (1484-1492), was of weak and 
pliant nature, notorious through the open manner m which 
he sought to advance the fortunes of his children, his extrava- 
gant expenditures, and his sale of oflSces. He even received a 
pension from Sultan Bayazid II for keeping the latter's brother 
and rival, Jem, a prisoner. Innocent's successor, Alexander 
VI (1492-1503), a nephew of Calixtus III, and a Spaniard 
(Rodrigo Borgia), obtained the papacy not without bribeiy, 
and was a man of unbridled inunonJity, though of considera- 
ble political insight. His great effort was to advance his bas- 
tard children, especially his daughter, Lucrezia jBorgia, by ad- 
vantageous marriages, and his unscrupulous and murderous 
son, Cesare Borgia, by aiding him to carve a principality out 
of the States of the (Church. His reign saw the beginning of 
the collapse of Italian independence through the invasion of 
Charles VIII of France (1483-1498), in 1494, m an attempt to 
assert the French King's claim to the throne of Naples. In 
1499 Louis XII of France (1498-1515), conquered Milan, and 
in 1503 Ferdinand the Catholic, of Spain (1479-1516), secured 
Naples. Italy became the wretched battleground of French 
and Spanish rivalries. 

Under such circumstances to increase the temporal power 
of the papacy was not easy ; but the task was achieved by the 
most warlike of the Popes, Julius II (1503-1513), nephew of 
Sixtus IV. The Orsini and Colohna were reconciled, Cesare 
Borgia driven from Italy, the cities of Romagna freed from 
their Venetian conquerors, the various nations in Europe 
grouped in leagues, with the result that the French were, for 
the time, expelled from Italy. In this contest Louis XII se- 
cured a parody of a general council in Pisa, which Pope Julius 
answered by calling the Fifth Lateran Council in Rome. It 
met from 1512 to 1517, and though reforms were ordered it 
accomplished nothing of importance. Julius II was undoubt- 
edly a ruler of great talents, who led his soldiers personally, and 
was animated by a desire to strengthen the temporal power of 
the papacy, rather than to enrich his relatives. As a patron of 
art and a builder he was among the most eminent of liie Popes. 

Julius II was succeeded by Giovanni de' Medici, who took 
the name Leo X (1513-1521). With all the artistic and literary 
tastes of the great Florentine family of which he was a member, 
he combined a love of display and extravagant expenditure. 


Far less warlike than Julius II, and free from the personal vices 
of some of his predecessors, he nevertheless made hb prime 
interests the enlargement of the States of the Church, and the 
balancing of the various factions of Italy, domestic and foreign, 
for the political advantage of the papacy. He strove to ad« 
vance his relatives. In 1516 he secured by a ''concordat" with 
Frauds I of JFrance (1515-1547) the abolition of the "Prag- 
matic Sanction'^ {antey p. 313) on terms which left to the King 
the nomination of all high fVench ecclesiastics and the right 
to tax the clergy, while the annates and other similar taxes 
went to the Pope. The next year a revolt began in Grermany, 
the gravity of which Leo never really comprehended, which was 
to tear half of Europe from the Roman obedience. 

Such Popes represented the Italian Renaissance, but they 
in no sense embodied the real spirit of a church which was to 
millions the source of comfort in this life and of hope for that 
to come. A revolution was inevitable. Nor did such a pa- 
paqr represent the real religious life of Italy. The Renaissance / 
affected only the educated and the upper classes. The people 
responded to appeals of preachers and the example of those 
they believed to be saints, though unfortunately seldom with 
lasting results save on individual lives. 

Such a religious leader, when the Renaissance was yoimg, was 
St. Catherine (1347-1380), the daughter of a dyer of Siena. 
A mystic, the recipient as she believ^ of divinely sent visions, 
she was a practical leader of affairs, a healer of family quarrels, 
a main cause in persuading the papacy to return from Avignon 
to Rome, a fearless denouncer of clerical evils, and an am- 
bassador to whom Popes and cities listened with respect. 
Her correspondence involved counsel of almost as much politi- 
cal as religious value to many of the leaders of the age in 
church and state alike. 

Even more famous in the later period of the Renaissance was 
Girolamo Savonarc^a of Flor^ice (1452-1498). A native of 
Ferrara, intended for the medical profession, a refusal of mar- 
riage turned his thoughts to a monastic life. In 1474 he became 
a Dominican in Bologna. Eight years later his work in Flor- 
ence began. At first little successful as a preacher, he came to 
speak with inunense popular effectiveness, that was heightened 
by the general conviction which he himself shared that he was 
a divinely inspired prophet. He was in no sense a Protestant. 


His religious outlook was thoroughly mediseval. The Proich 
invasion of 1494 led to a popular revolution against the Medici, 
and SavonaroTa now became the real ruler of Florence, which 
he sought to transform into a penitential city. A semi-monastic 
^ life was adopted by many of the inhabitants. At the carnival 
seasons of 1496 and 1497, masks, indecent books and pictures 
were Tbumed. For the time being the life of Florence was 
radically changed. But Savonarola aroused enemies. The 
adherents of the deposed Medici hated him, and above all, 
Pope Alexander VI, whose evil character and misrule Savon- 
arola denoimced. The Pope excommunicated him and de- 
manded his punishment. Friends sustained him for a while, 
but the fickle populace turned against him. In April, 1498, he 
was arrested, cruelly tortured, and on May 23 haiiged and his 
body burned by the city government. Not the least of Alex- 
ander VPs crimes was his persecution of this preacher of 
righteousness, though Savonarola's death was due quite as 
much to Florentine reaction against him as to the hostility of 
the Pope. 


The half-century from 1450 to 1500 saw a remarkable growth 
in royal authority and national consciousness in the weston 
kingdoms of Europe. France, which had seemed well-nigh 
ruined by the long wars with England, from 1339 to 1453, 
came out of them with the monarchy greatly strengthened, 
since these struggles had been immensely destructive to the 
feudal nobility. Louis XI (1461-1483), by intrigue, arms, and 
I tyranny, with the aid of commoners, broke the power of the 
feudal nobility and secured for the crown an authority it had 
not hitherto possessed. His^son, Charles VIII (1483-1498), 
was able to lead the now centralized state into a career of f or^ 
eign conquest in Italy that was to open a new epoch in Euro- 
pean politics and give rise to rivalries that were to determine 
the political background of the whole Reformation age. What 
these Kings had attempted in centralization at home, and in 
conquest abroad, was carried yet further by Louis XII (1498- 
1515), and by the brilliant and isimbitious Francis I (1515-1547). 
France was now a strong, centralized monarchy. Its chur ch 
was largely under royal control, and to a consideraCIe 


mliniinr^ nf fj^p ^9^!! JftlWJ fthll?^, ,^>^«"Vq ^^ ^^ "VvAgn^SLfln j 

Sanctio n ^^nf 14y^ (ante, p. 313) ; and the custom which grew 
up with the strengthening of the monarchy in the fifteenth 
century that appeals could be taken from church courts to 
those of the King. The control of the monarchy over clerical 
appointments/cTerical taxation, and clerical courts was in- 
creased by the "concordat" of 1516 {ante, p. 319), which gave 
to the Pope in turn desired taxes. Bj'^ the dawn of the Reforma- . 
tion the church of France was, in many respects, a state church. ^ 

In England the Wars of the Hoses, between Yorkists and 
Lancastrians, from 1455 to 14SS^ resulted in the destruction of 
the power of the high nobility to the advantage of the crown. / 
Parliament survived. The King must rule in legal form ; but 
the power of a Henry VII (1485-1509), the first of the house 
of Tudor, was greater than that of any English sovereign had 
been for a century, and was exercised with almost unlimited 
absolutism, though in parliamentary form, by his even abler 
son, Henry VIII (1509-1547). The English sovereigns had 
attained, even before the Reformation, a large degree of au- 
thority in ecclesiastical affairs, and, as in France, the church in 
England was largely national at the dose of the fifteenth cen- 

This nationalizing process was nowhere in so full develop- / 
ment as in Spain, where it was taking on the character of a re-/ 
ligious awakening, which was to make that land a pattern for 
the conception of reform, often, though not very correctly, called 
the Counter-Reformation — a conception that was to oppose 
the Teutonic ideal of revolution, and was ultimately able to 
hold the allegiance of half of Europe to a purified Roman Church. 
The rise of Spain was the political wonder of the latter part of 
the fifteenth century. Aside from the main currents of medi- 
seval European life, the history of the peninsula had been a 
long crusade to throw off the Mohammedan yoke, which had 
been imposed in 711. Nowhere, in guiy^pe, were. patriojtiapi ^ 
and Catholic orthodoxy so interwoven. The struggle had re- 
sulted, by the thh tee n th eentttry , m the restriction of the 
Moors to the kingdom of Granada, and in the formation of 
four Christian kingdoms, Castile, Aragon, Portugal, and Na- 
varre. These states were weak, and the royal power limited 
by the feudal nobility. A radical change came when the pros- 
pective rulership of liie larger part of the peninsula was united. 


in 1469, by the marriage of Ferdinand, heir of Aragon (King, 
147»-1516) with Isabella, heiress of Castile (Queen, 1474-1504)- 
Under their joint sovereignty Spain took a new place in Euro- 
pean life. The disorderly nobles were repressed. The royal 
authority was asserted. In 1492 Granada was conquered and 
Mohanunedanism overcome. The same year witnessed the 
discovery of a new world by Columbus, under Spanish auspices, 
which speedily became a source of very considerable revenue 
to the royal treasury. The French invasions of Italy led to 
Spanish interference, which lodged Spain firmly in Naples by 
1503, and soon rendered Spanish influence predominant through- 
out Italy. On Ferdinand's death, in 1516, these great posses- 
sions passed to his grandson, already heir of Austria and the 
Netherlands, and to wear the imperial title as Charles V. 
Spain had suddenly become the first power in Europe. 

The joint sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, devoted them- 
selves no less energetically to the control of the church than to 
the extension of their temporal authority. The ''Spanish 
awakening" was in no sense unique. It did not differ in prin- 
ciple from much that had been attempted elsewhere in the 
later Middle Ages. No nation with a history like that of 
Spain could desire doctrinal change. It was intensely devoted 
to the system of which the papacy was the spiritual head. 
But it believed that papal aggressions in administrative affairs 
should be limited by royal authority, and that an educated, 
moral, and zealous clergy could, by the same power, be encour- 
aged and maintained. It was by reason of the success with 
which these results were accomplished that the Spanish awak- 
ening became the model of the " Counter-Reformation." 

No more conscientious or religiously minded sovereign ev^ 
ruled than Isabella, and if Ferdinand was primarily a politician, 
he was quick to see the political advantages of a policy that 
would place the Spanish church in subjection to the crown. 
In 1482 the joint sovereigns forced Pope Sixtus IV to agree 
to a concordat placing nomination to the higher ecclesiastical 
posts in the royal control. The policy thus begun was speedily 
1 extended by the energetic sovereigns. Papal bulls now re- 
quired royal approval for promulgation. Church courts were 
supervised. The clergy were tax^ for the benefit of the state. 

Ferdinand and Isabella now proceeded to fill the important 
stations in the Spanish chiu*ch not only with men devoted to 


the royal interests, but of strenuous piety and disciplinary zeal. 
In this effort they had the aid of many men of ability, but chief 
among them stood Gonzalez (or Francisco) Ximenes de Cis- 
neros (1436-1517), in whom the Spanish awakening had its 
typical representative. 

Bom of a family of the lower nobility, Ximenes went to Rome 
after studies in AlcaU and Salamanca. On his return, in 1465, 
after sue years in the seat of the papacy, he showed great ability 
in chiux^h business and much talent as a preacher. About 
1480 he was appointed vicar-general of the diocese by Men- 
doza, then bishop of Siguenza. In the full tide of success 
Ximenes now renounced tdl his honors and became a Franciscan 
monk of the strictest observance* Not content with these 
austerities, he adopted the hermit's life. In 1492, however, 
on recommendation of Mendoza, now become archbishop of 
Toledo, Queen Isabella app<Hnted Ximenes her confessor, and 
consulted him in affairs of state as well as questions of con- 
science. Queen and confessor worked in harmony, and under 
their vigorous action a thoroughgoing reform of discipline was 
undertaken in the disorderly monasteries of the land. Ximenes's 
influence was but increased when, in 1495, on Isabella's insist- 
ence, and against his own protests, he became Mendoza's 
successor in the archbishopric of Toledo, not only the highest 
ecclesiastical post in Spain, but one with which the grand- 
chancellorship of Castile was imited. Here he maintained his 
ascetic life. Supported by the Queen, he turned all the powers 
of bis high office to rid Spain of unworthy clergy and monks. 
No opposition could thwart him, and more than a thousand 
monks are said to have left the peninsula rather than submit 
to his discipline. The moral character and zeal of the Span- 
ish dergy were greatly improved. 

Ximenes, though no great scholar, saw the need of an edu- 
cated clergy. He had encoimtered Renaissance influences in 
Rome, and would turn them wholly to the service of the church. 
In 1498 he founded the University of AlcaU de Henares, to 
which he devoted a large part of his episcopal revenues, and 
where he gathered learned men, among them four professors 
of Greek and Hebrew. A quarter of a century later Alcal& 
counted seven thousand students. Though opposed to general 
reading of the Bible by the laity, Ximenes believed that the 
Scriptures should be the prmcipa] study of the deigy. The 


(noblest monument of this conviction is the Complutensian 
Polyglot (Alcald=Complutum), on which he directed the labor 
from 1502 to 1517. The Old Testament was presented in He- 
brew, Greek, and Latin, with the Targum on the Pentateuch ; 
the New Testament in Greek and Latin. The New Testament 
was in print by 1515. To Ximenes belongs the honor, there- 
fore, of first printing the New Testament in Greek, though as 
papal permission for publication could not be obtained till 
1520, the Greek Testament, issued in 1516, by Erasmus, was 
earlier on the market. 

The less attractive side of Ximenes's character is to be seen 
in his willingness to use force for the conversion of the Moham- 
medans. In affairs of state his firmness and wisdom were of 
vast service to Isabella, Ferdinand, and Charles V, till hia 
death in 1517. 

The intellectual impulse thus inaugurated by Ximenes led 
ultimately to a revival of the theology of Aquinas, begun by 
Francisco de Vittoria (?-1546) m Salamanca, and continued 
by Vittoria's disciples, the great Roman theologians of the 
early struggle with Protestantism, Domingo de Soto (1494r- 
1560) and Melchior Cano (1525-1560). 

Characteristic of the Spanish awakening was the leorgamza- 
ion of the inquisition. The Spanish temper viewed orthodoxy 
md patriotism as essentially one, and regarded the nuunte- 
lance of their religions by Jews and Mohammedans, or relapse 
>y such of those dissenters as had embraced Christianity^ as 
Iperils to church and state alike. Accordingly, in 1480, F^di- 
nand and Isabella established the inquisition, entirely under 
royal authority, and with inquisitors appointed by the sovereign. 
It was this national character that was the distinguish ing 
feature of the Spanish inquisition, and led to protests by Pope 
Sixtus IV, to which the sovereigns turned deaf ears. Support^ 
by the crown, it speedily became a fearful instrument, under the 
leadership of Tomas Torquemada (1420-1498). Undoubtedly 
its value in breaking the independence of the nobles and re- 
plenishing the treasury by confiscation commended it to the 
sovereigns, but its chief claim to popular favor was its repre^ 
sion of heresy and dissent. 

Spain had, therefore, at the close of the fifteenth century, 
the most independent national church of any nation in Europe, 
in which a moral and intellectual renewal — ^not destined to be 


permanent — ^was in more vigorous progress than elsewhere; 
yet a church intensely medieval in doctrine and practice, and 
fiercely intolerant of all heresy. 

In Grermany the situation was very different. The empire 
lacked all real unity. The imperial crown, in theory elective, 
was worn by members of the Austrian house of Habsburg from 
1438 to 1740, but the Emperors had power as possessors of 
their hereditary lands, rather than as holders of imperial au- 
thority. Under Frederick III (1440-1493) wars between the 
princes and cities and the disorder of the lower nobility, who 
lived too often by what was really highway robbery, kept the 
land in a turmoil which the Emperor was powerless to suppress. 
Matters were somewhat better under Maximilian I (1493- 
1519), and an attempt was made to give stronger central au- 
thority to the empire by frequent meetings of the old feudal 
Reichstag, the establishment of an imperial supreme court 
(1495), and the division of the empire into districts for the 
better preservation of public peace (1512). Efforts were made 
to form an imperial army and collect imperial taxes. These 
reforms had little vitality. The decisions of the court could 
not be enforced nor the taxes collected. The Reichstag was, 
indeed, to play a great r61e in the Reformation days, but it 
was a clumsy parliament, meeting in three houses, one of the 
imperial electors, the second of lay and spiritual princes, and 
the third of delegates from the free imperial cities. The lower 
nobles and the common people had no share in it. 

The imperial cities were an unportant element in German 
life, owning no superior but the feeble rule of the Emperor. 
They were industrious and wealthy, but they were far from 
democratic in their government, and were thoroughly self- 
seeking as far as the larger interests of Germany were con- 
cerned. Their commercial spirit led them to resist the exac- 
tions of clergy and princes alike. 

In no country of Europe was the peasantry in a state of 
greater unrest, especially in southwestern Grermany, where in- 
surrections occurred in 1476, 1492, 1512, and 1513. The peas- 
ants were serfs — a condition that had passed away in England, 
and largely in France. Their state had been made rapidly 
worse by the substitution of the Roman law — a law made largely 
for slaves — ^for the old legal customs, and by the close of the 
fifteenth century they were profoundly disaffected. 


Yet if German national life as a whole was thus disordered 
and dissatisfied^ the larger territories of Gennany were growing 
stronger, and developing a kind of semi-independent local 
national life in themselves. This was notably true of Aus- 
tria, electoral and ducal Saxony, Bavaria, Brandenburg, and 
Hesse. The power of their rulers was increasing, and they were 
beginning to exercise a local authority in churdily affairs, con- 
trolling the nomination of bishops and abbots, taxing the 
clergy, and limiting to some extent ecclesiastical jurisdiction. 
This local territorial churchmanship had not gone far, but that 
it existed was of the utmost importance in giving a framework 
which the Reformation was rapidly to develop when Roman 
obedience was rejected. 

The years preceding the Reformation witnessed two marriages 
by the Habsburg rulers of Austria of the utmost importance 
for the political background of the Reformation age. In 1477 
the death of Charles the Bold, the ambitious duke of Burgundy, 
left the heirship of his Burgundian territories and the Nether- 
lands to his daughter, Mary. Her marriage that year, with 
Maximilian I, to the dissatisfaction of Louis XI of FVance, 
who seized upper Burgundy, sowed the seeds of quarrel between 
the Kings of France and the Habsburg line which were lai^ly 
to determine the politics of Europe till 1756. Philip, the son 
of Maximilian and Mary, in turn married Juana, heiress of 
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spam. So it came about that 
Philip and Juana's son, Charles, became possessor of Austria, 
the Netherlands, and the wide-extended Spanish territories in 
Europe and the New World — a larger sovereignty than had 
been held by a single ruler since Charlemagne — to which the 
imperial title was added in 1519. Charles V became heir also 
to the rivalry between the Habsburg line to which he belonged 
and the Kings of France. That rivalry and the struggle for 
religious reform were to interplay throughout the Reformation 
age, constantly modifying each other. 

mcnos XVI. renaissance and other influences 


Though the fifteenth century was a notable period of uni- 
versity foundation in Germany — ^no less than twelve coming 
into existence between 1409 and 1506 — these new creations did 


not owe their existence to the Renaissance. They grew partly 
out of a strong desire for learning, but even more from the 
ambition of the larger territorial rulers to possess such schools 
in their own lands. An influence favorable to the ultimate 
triumph of humanism was the revival of the older reaUstic 
medisval theology, and a tendency to go back of even the 
earlier schoolmen to Augustine, and to Neo-Platonic rather 
then Aristotelian conceptions. These revivals were strongly 
represented in the University of Paris by the last quarter of 
the fifteenth century, and spread thence to German imiver- 
sities with considerable following. They made for many the 
bridge to hiunanism, and they rendered possible that domi- 
nance of Augustinian conceptions which was to be character- 
istic of the Reformation age. 

. The Renaissance beyond the Alps was inaugurated by con- 
tact with Italian humanists at the Councils of Constance and 
Basel, but it did not become a powerful influence till near the 
dose of the fifteenth century. Its conquests were earlier in 
Germany than in France, England, or Spain. Some considera- 
ble impulse was given by the learned mathematician and phi- 
losopher, Nicholas of Cues (1401-1464), who collected a nota- 
ble library. He died a cardinal and bishop of Brixen. Many 
of its earlier representatives in Germany were little fitted, 
however, to commend it to the serious-minded. German stu- 
dents brought home from Italy the love of the classics, and 
also the loose living too often characteristic of the Italian 
Renaissance. Such were men like the vagabond poet, Peter 
Luder, who passed from university to university, a disreputable 
exponent of the new learning, from 1456 to 1474. A very differ- 
ent teacher, who had studied in Italy, was Rudolf Agricola 
(1443^1485), who closed hb life as professor in Heidelberg. A 
man of worth and influence, he did much to further classical 
education in the fitting schools. Through Agricola's disciple, 
Alexander H^ius, who dominated the school in Deventer from 
1482 to 1498, that foundation became a centre of classical in- 
struction, iA which Erasmus was to be the most famous pupil. 
By the dofe of the fifteenth century a great improvement in 
the teaching of Latin had taken place in the secondary schools 
of Germany. 

Humanism foimd footing in the imiversities, not without 
severe struggle. Its earliest conquest was the University of 



Vienna, where the semi-pagan Latin poet, Conrad Celtes (1459- 
1508), enjoyed the patronage of the humanistically inclined 
Emperor, Maximilian I. By the first decade of the sixteenth 
century, humanism was pressing into the Universities of Basd, 
Tubingen, Ingolstadt, Heidelberg, and Erfurt. It also found 
many patrons in the wealthy commercial cities, notably in 
Niuremberg, Strassburg, and Augsburg.. So numerous were 
its sympathizers by tiie dose of the fifteenth century that 
learned circles were being formed, like the Rhenish Literary 
Association, organized by Celtes in Mainz, in 1491, the mem- 
bers of which corresponded, circulated each other's works, and 
afforded mutual assistance. By 1500 humanism was becoming 
a vital factor in Germany. 

) German humanism presented many types, but was, in gen- 
eral, far less pagan and more seriou»-minded than that of Italy. 
Many of its leaders were sincere chruchmen, anxious to reform 
and purify religious life. It is to be seen at its best in its two 
most famous representatives, Reuchlin and Erasmus. 

Bom in humble circumstances, in Pforzheim, in 1455, Johann 
Reuchlin early gained local reputation as a Latinist, and was 
sent as companion to the young son of the margrave of Baden 
to the University of Paris, about 1472. Here, in Paris, he 
began the study of Greek, instruction in which had been c^ered 
there since 1470. In 1477 he received the master's d^;ree in 
Basel, and there taught Greek. Even before his graduation he 
published a Latin dictionary (1475-1476). He studied law in 
Orleans and Poitiers, and in later life was much employed in 
judicial positions; but his interests were always primarily 
scholarly. The service of the count of Wiirttemberg took him 
to Florence and Rome in 1482 — cities which he visited again 
in 1490 and 1498. At Florence, even on his first visit, his ac* 
quaintance with Greek commanded admiration. There he met 
and was influenced by the scholars of the Platonic Academy 
(ante, p. 315), and from Pico della Mirandola (ante, p. 315) he 
acquired that strange interest in Kabalistic doctrines that 
added much to his fame in Germany. Reuchlin was regarded 
as the ablest Greek scholar of the closing years of the fifteenth 
.century in Germany, and his influence in promotion of Greek 
^studies was most fruitful. 

Reuchlin had the Renaissance desire to return to the sources, 
and this led him, first of non-Jewish scholars in Germany, to 


make a profound study of Hebrew that he might the better 
understand the Old Testament The fruit of twenty years of 
this labor was the publication in 1506 of a Hebrew grammar 
and lexicon — Be Rvdimentis Hebraicis — ^which unlocked the 
treasmres of that speech to Christian students. The bitter 
quarrd into which the peace-loving scholar was drawn by 
reason of these Hebrew studies, and with him all educated Ger- 
many, will be described in treating of the inunediate antece- ^ 
dents of the Lutheran revolt. Reuchlin was no Protestant. 
He refused approval to the rising Reformation, which he wit- 
nessed till his death in 1522. But he did a service of immense 
importance to Biblical scholarship, and his intellectual heir 
was to be his grandnephew, that sdiolar among the reformers, 
Philip Melanchthon. 

Desiderius Erasmus was bom out of wedlock in Rotterdam, . 
or Gouda, probably in 1466. The school in Deventer awakened 
his love of letters {aviey p. 327). His poverty drove him into 
an Augustinian monastery in Steyn, but he had no taste for the 
monastic life, nor for that of the priesthood, to which he was 
ordained in 1492. By 1495 he was studying in Paris. The 
year 1499 saw him in England, where he made the helpful 
friendship of John T^olet, who directed him toward the study 
of the Bible and the Tatiiers. A few years of studious labors, 
chiefly in France*^ and the Netherlands, saw him once more in 
England, in 1505, then followed a three years' sojourn in Italy. 
In 1509 he again retiu-ned to England, and now taught in the 
University of Cambridge, enjoying the friendship of many 
of the most distinguished men of the kingdom. The years 
1515-1521 were spent for the most part in the service of Charles 
V in the Netherlands. From 1521 to his death in 1536 Basel, 
where he could have ample facilities for publication, was 
his principal home. He may thus be called a citizen of all 
Europe. I 

Erasmus was not an impeccable Latinist.* His knowledge of 
Greek was rather superficial. He was, above all, a man of 
letters, who touched the issues of his time with consummate 
wit and brilliancy of expression; set forth daring criticism of 
clergy and civil rulers, and withal was moved by deep sincerity 
of piu*pose. Convinced that the church of his day was over- 
laid with superstition, corruption, and error, and that the 
monastic life was too often ignorant and unworthy, he had yet 


no wish to break with the church that he so freely criticised. 
He was too primarily intellectual to have sympathy with the 
Lutheran revolution, the excesses of which repelled him. He 
was too clear-sighted not to see the evils of the Roman Church. 
Hence neither side in the struggle that opened in the latter 
part of his life understood him, and his memory has been con- 
demned by polemic writers, Protestant and Catholic. His 
own thought was that education, return to the sources of 
Christian truth, and flageUation of ignorance and unmoraUty 
by merciless satire would bring the church to purity. To this 
end he labored. His Handbook of the Christian Soldier of 1502 
was a simple, earnest presentation of an unecdesiastical Chri^ 
tianity, largely Stoic in character. His Praise of FoUy of 1509 
was a biting satire on the evils of his age in church and state. 
His Familiar Colloquies of 1518 were witty discussions in which 
fastings, pilgrimages, and similar external observances were 
the butts of his brilliant pen. His constructive work was of 
the highest importance. In 1516 came the first edition of his 
Greek Testament, the pioneer publication of the Greek text, 
for that of Ximenes was stiU inaccessible {ante, p. 324). Thb 
was followed by a series of the Fathers — Jerome, Origen, Basil, 
Cyril, Chrysostom, Irenaeus, Ambrose, and Augustine, not all 
wholly from his pen, but all from his impulse, which placed 
scholarly knowledge of early Christianity on a new plane, and 
profoundly aided a Reformation, the deeper religious springs 
of which Erasmus never understood. Erasmus rendered a ser- 
vice for the Christian classics, much like that of the Italian 
humanists for the pagan writers of Greece and Rome. 

Yet Erasmus did something more than revive a knowledge 
of Christian sources. In a measure, he had a positive theology. 
To him Christianity was but the fullest expression through . 
Christ, primarily in the Sermon on the Moimt, of universal, 
essentially ethical religion, of which the philosophers of an- 
tiquity had also been bearers. He had little feeling for the 
sacramental or for the deeply personal elements in religion. A 
universal ethical theism, having its highest illustration in 
Christ, was his idea. His way of thinking was to have little 
influence on the Reformation as a whole, though mudi on 
^ Socinianbm, and is that represented in a great deal of modem 
theology, of which he was thus the spiritual ancestor. 

Thoiij^ Germany was more largely influenced by the Re- 


naissance at the beginning of the sixteenth century than any- 
other land beyond the Alps, the same impulses were stirring 
elsewhere, llie efforts of Ximenes in Spain have already been i 
noted (arUe, p. 324). In England John Colet (1467?-1519)/ 
was introducing educational reforms and lecturing on the epis- 
tles of Paul in Oxford and London. His influence in turning 
Erasmus to Biblical studies was considerable (ante, p. 329). 
He rejected all allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures, criti- 
cised clerical celibacy and auricular confession, and desired 
to better the education and morals of the clergy. As the six- 
teenth century dawned humanism was gaining constantly in- 
creasing following in England, and King Henry VIH (1509- 
1547) was deemed its patron. 

The situation in France was similar. The chief representa-/ 
tive of a chivchly reformatory humanism was Jaques Le Fdvre, I 
of Etaples (1455-1536), most of whose active years were spent \ 
in or near Paris. A modest, kindly little man, of mystical 
piety, he published a Latin translation and conunentary on 
Paul's epistles in 1512, which denied the justifying merits of 
good works and held salvation a free gift from God. He never 
perceived, however, any fundamental difference between him- 
self and the Roman Church; but he gathered round himself 
a body of devoted pupils, destined to most unlike participa- 
tion in the Reformation struggle, Guillaume Bri^onnet, to be 
bishop of Meaux; Guillaume Bud6, eminent in Greek and to 
be instrumental in founding the College de France; Louis de 
Berquin, to die a Protestant martyr; and Guillaume Farel, to 
be the fiery reformer of French-speaking Switzerland. 

To all these religious-minded humanists the path of reform 
seemed similar. Sound learning, the study and preaching of ^ 
the Bible and the Fathers, and the correction of ignorance, 
immorality, and glaring administrative abuses would make 
the church what it should be. This solution did not meet the 
deep needs of the situation; but the humanists rendered an 
indispensable preparation for the Reformation. They led men j 
to study Christian sources afresh. They discredited the later! 
scholastic theology. They brought in new and more natural] 
methods of exegesis. To a large degree they looked on lifq 
from another standpoint than the mediaeval. They repre- 
sented a release of the mind, in some considerable measure, 
from mediseval traditionalism. 




Partly as a result of the Renaissance emphasis on the sources, 
but even more in consequence of the invention of printing, the 
latter half oi the fifteenth century witnessed a wide distribu- 
tion of the Bible in the Vulgate and in translation* No less 
than ninety-two editions of the Vulgate were put fcHth before 
1500. Ei^teen editions of a German version were printed 
before 1521. The New Testament was printed in Frendi in 
1477; the whc^e Bible ten years later; 1478 saw the publica- 
tion of a Spanish translation; 1471 the printing ct two inde- 
pendent versions in Italian. In the Netholands the Psalms 
were seven times published between 1480 and 1507. The 
Scriptures were printed in Bohemian in 1488. If England had 
no printed Bible before the Reformation, many manuscripts <rf 
WydiTs translation were in circulation. 

Eflforts were made to restrict the reading of the Bible by the 
laity, since its use seemed the source of mediieval heresies; but 
there can be no doubt that familiarity with it much increased 
among the less educated priesthood and among laymen. Yet 
the r^ question of the influence of this Bible reading is the 
problem^ of Biblical interpretation. The Middle Ages never 
denied the final authority of the Bible. Augustine and Aqui- 
nas so r^arded it. It was the Bible interpreted, however, 
by the Fathers, the teachers, and the coimdls of the diurch. 
Should that churchly right to interpret be denied, there re- 
mained only the right of private interpretation; but the voices 
from Bohemia and the mediseval sects which denied the inter- 
preting authority of the church, found no general response as 
yet. The commanding word had yet to be spoken. The mere 
reading of the Bible involved no denial of mediseval ideals. 
Only when those ideals were rejected could the interpreting 
authority which supported them be denied and the Bible be- 
come the support of the newer conceptions of salvation and of 
the church. The Bible was not so much the cause of Protes- 
tantism as was Protestantism a new interpretation of the 

The closing years of the fifteenth century were, as has been 
deen, a period of religious betterment in Spain. No such cor- 
responding revival of interest in religion is to be traced in 
France or England; but Germany was imdergoing a real and 
pervasive religious quickening in the decades inunediately pre- 
ceding the Reformation. Its fundamental motive seems to 


have been fear. Much in the popular life of Germany tended 
to increase the sense of apprehension. The witchcraft delusion,^ 
though by no means new, was rapidly spreading. A bull of 
Pope Innocent VIII in 1484 declared Germany full of witches, 
and the German inquisitors, Jakob Sprenger and Heinrich 
Kramer, published their painfully celebrated Malleus MdUfi" < 
carum in 1489. It was a superstition that added terror to 
popular life, and was to be shared by the reformers no less 
than by their Roman opponents. The years from 1490 to ^ 
1503 were a period of famine in Germany. The Turkish peril 
was becoming threatening. The general social imrest has al- 
ready been noted {anUy p. 325). M these elements contributed 
to the development of a sense of the reality and nearness of ^ 
divine judgments, .and the need of propitiating an angry God. 
Luther's early religious experiences were congenial to die spirit 
of this pervasive religious movement. 

The religious spirit of Germany at the close of the fifteenth 
century found expression in pilgrimages. A few of the more 
wealthy journeyed to the Holy Land, more went to Rome, 
but the most popular foreign pilgrimage shrine was that of 
St. James at Compostella in Spain. German pilgrim shrines 
were thronged, and great collections of relics were made, no- 
tably by the Saxon Elector, Frederick the Wise (148&-1525), to 
be Luther's protector, who placed them in the castle church, to 
the door of which Luther was to nail his famous Theses. The 
intercession of Mary was never more sought, and Mary's 
mother, St. Anna, was but little less valued. Christ was popu- 
larly regarded as a strict judge, to be placated with satisfac- 
tions or absolutions. _^ 

Yet side by side with this external and work-trusting religious 
spirit, Germany had not a little of mystic piety, that saw the 
essence of religion in the relation of the individual soul to God; 
and a good deal of what has been called ''non-ecclesiastical 
religion," which showed itself not only in simple, serious lives, 
like that of Luther's father, but in increasing attempts of lay 
princes to improve the quality of the clergy, of towns to regu- 
late beggary, to control charitable foundations, which had 
been in exclusive ecclesiastical hands, and in various ways to 
vindicate for laymen, as such, a larger share in the religious 
life of the conmiunity. The active life was asserting its claims 
against the contemplative. Theology, as such, hiEtd largely 


lost its hold on popular thought, discredited by nominalism, 
despised by humanism, and supplanted by mysticism. 

It was no dead age to which Luther was to speak, but one 
seething with unrest, vexed with multitudinous unsolved prob- 
lems and unfulfilled longings. 



The religious and economic situation of Germany at the 
beginning of the sixteenth century was in many respects criti- 
cal. Papal taxation and papal interference with churchly 
appointments were generally deemed oppressive. The expedi- 
tion of clerical business by the papal curia was deemed expen- 
sive and corrupt. The clergy at home were much criticised 
for the unwortliy examples of many of their number in high 
station and low. The trading cities were restive under clerical v 
exemptions from taxation, the prohibition of interest, the many 
holidays, and the churchly countenance of beggars. Monas- 
teries were in many places in sore need of reform, and their 
large landed possessions were viewed with ill favor, both by 
the nobles who would gladly possess them, and the peasantry 
who labored on them. The peasantry in general were in a 
state of economic imrest, not the least of their grievances 
being the tithes and fees collected by the local clergy. Added 
to these causes of restlessness were the intellectual ferment of 
rising German humanism and the stirrings of popular religious 
awakening, manifested in a deepening sense of terror and con- 
cern for salvation. It is evident that, could these various 
grievances find bold expression in a determined leader, his voice 
would find wide hearing. 

In the intellectual world of Germany, moreov^, division 
was being greatly intoisified by a quarrel involving one of the 
most peace-loving and respected of hiunanists, Reuchlin {amtet 
p. 328), and imiting in his support the advocates of the new 
learning. Johann PfefferlcDm (1469-1622)v a canvert from 
Judaism, procured an order from the EmperOr^ Maodmilian, 
in 1609, confiscating Jewish books as doing dishonor to Ohxish 
tianity. The archUshop of Mainz, to whom the task of in- 
quiry was intrusted, consulted Reuchlin and Jakob Hoch- 
straten (1460-1527), the Dominican inquisitor in G)logne. 
They took opposite sides. Hochstraten supported Pf^er- 



korn, while Reuchlin defended Jewish literature as with slight 
exceptions desirable, urged a fuller knowledge of Hebrew, and 
the substitution of friendly discussion with the Jews for the 
confiscation of their books. A storm of controversy was the 
result. Reuchlin was accused of heresy and put on trial by 
Hochstraten. The case was appealed to Rome, and dragged 
till 1520, when it was decided gainst Reuchlin. The advo- 
cates of the new learning, however, looked upon the whole 
proceeding as an ignorant and unwarranted attack on scholar- 
ship, and raUied to Reuchlin's support. 

From this humanistic circle came, in 1514 and 1517, one of 
the most successful satires ever issued — ^the Letters of Ohacure 
Men. Purporting to be written by opponents of Reuchlin and 
the new learning, they aroused wide-spread ridicule by their 
barbarous Latinity, their triviality, and their ignorance, and 
undoubtedly created the impression that the party opix)sed 
to Reuchlin was hostile to learning and progress. Their author- 
ship is still uncertain, but Crotus Rubeanus (1480?-1539?) of 
Domheim and Ulrich von Hutten (1488-1523) certainly had 
parts in it. Hutten, vain, immoral, and quarrelsome, but 
brilliantly gifted as a writer of prose and verse, and undoubt- 
edly patriotic, was to give support of dubious worth to Luther 
in the early years of the Reformation movement. The eflFect 
of the storm raised over Reuchlin was to imite German human- 
ists, and to draw a line of cleavage between them and the con- 
servatives, of whom the Dominicans were the most conspicuous. 

It was while this contest was at its height that a protest 
against an ecclesiastical abuse, made, in no unusual or spec- 
tacular fashion, by a monastic professor in a recently foimded 
and relatively inconspicuous German university, on October 
31, 1517, found immediate response and launched the most 
gigantic revolution in the history of the Christian Church. 

Martin Luther, from whom this protest came, is one of the 
few men of whom it may be said that the history of the 'world 
was profoundly altered by his work. Not a great scholar, an 
organizer or a politician, he moved men by the power of a 
profound religious experience, resulting in unshakable trust in 
God, and in direct, immediate and personal relations to Him, 
which brought a confident salvation that left no room for the 
elaborate hierarchical and sacramental structures of the Middle 
Ages. He spoke to his countrymen as one profoundly of them 


in aspirations and sympathies, yet above them by virtue of a 
vivid and compelling faith, and a courage, physical and spiritual, 
of the most heroic mould. Yet so largely was he of his race, 
in his virtues and limitations, that he is understood with diffi- 
culty, to this day, by a Frenchman or an Italian, and even 
Anglo-Saxons have seldom appreciated that fulness of sym- 
patiietic admiration with which a German Protestant speaks 
his name. But whether honored or opposed, none can deny 
his pre-eminent place in the history of tiie church. 

Luther was bom on November 10, 1483, in Eisleben, where 
his father was a peasant miner. His father and mother were 
of simple, unecdesiastical piety. The father, more energetic 
and ambitious than most peasants, removed to Mansfdd a 
few months after Martin's birth, where he won respect and a 
modest competence, and was fired with ambition to give his 
son an education fitting to a career in the law. After prepara- 
tory schooling in Man^eld, Magdeburg, and Eisenach, Martin 
Luther enter^ the University of Erfurt in 1501, where he was 
known as an earnest, companionable, and music-loving student. 
The humanistic movement beginning to be felt in Erfurt had 
little influence upon him. His interest was rather in the later, 
nominalistic scholastic philosophy, representative of the school 
of Occam, though he read fairly widely in the Latin classics. 

Luther felt strongly that deep sense of sinfulness which was 
the ground note of the religious revival of the age in Germany. 
His graduation as master of arts in 1505, made it necessary 
then to begin his special preparation in law. He was pro- 
foundly moved, however, by the sudden death of a friend and 
by a narrow escape from lightning, and he therefore broke off 
his career, and, in deep anxiety for his soul's salvation, en- 
tered the monastery of Augustinian hermits in Erfurt, in July, 
1505. The ''German congregation" of Augustinians, recently 
reformed by Andreas Proles (1429-1503), and now under the 
supervil^on of Johann von Staupitz (?-1524), enjoyed deserved 
popular respect and represented mediaeval monasticism at its 
best. Thoroughly mediseval, in general, in its theological posi- 
tion, it made much of preaching, and included some men 
who were disposed to mystical piety and sympathetic with 
the deeper religious apprehensions of Augustine and Bernard. 
To Staupitz, Luther was to owe much. In the monastic life 
Luther won speedy recognition. In 1507 he was ordained to 



the priesthood. The next year saw him in Wittenberg, at the 
command of his superiors, preparing for a future professorship 
in the university which had been there established by the 
Saxon Elector, Frederick III, "the Wise'* (1486-1525), in 1502. 
There he graduated bachelor of theology in 1509, but was sent 
back the same year to Erfurt, possibly to study for the degree 
of sententiarius, or licensed expounder of that great mediaeval 
text-book of theology, the "Sentences" of Peter Liombard (ante, 
p. 266). On business of his order he made a memorable journey 
to Rome, probably in 1510. Back once more in Wittenberg, 
which was thenceforth to be his home, he became a doctor of 
theology in 1512 and began at once to lecture on the Bible, 
treating the Psalms from 1513 to 1515, then Romans till late 
in 1516, and thereupon Galatians, Hd^rews, and Titus. His 
practical abilities were recognized by his appointment, in 1515, 
as district vicar in charge of eleven monasteries of his order, and 
he began, even earlier, the practice of preaching in which, from 
the first, he displayed remarkable gifts. In lus order he bore 
the repute of a man of singular piety, devotion, and monastic 

Yet, in spite of all monastic strenuousness, Luther found no 
peace of soul. His sense of sinfulness overwhelmed him. 
Staupitz helped him by pointing out that true penitence began 
not with fear of a punishing God, but with love to God. But 
if Luther could say that Staupitz first opened his eyes to the 
Gospel, the clarifying of his vision was a dlow and gradual proc- 
ess. Till 1509 Luther devoted himself to the later schdastics, 
Occam, d'Ailli, and Biel. To them he owed permanently his 
disposition to emphasize the objective facts of revelation, and 
his distrust of reason. Augustine, however, was opening new 
visions to him by the close of 1509, and leading him to a rapidly 
growing hostility toward the dominance of Aristotie m theology. 
Augustine's mysticism and emphasis on the salvatory signifi- 
cance of the human life and death of Christ fascinated him. 
Anselm and Bernard helped him. By the time that Luther 
lectured on the Psalms (1513-1515), he had become convinced 
that salvation is a new relation to God, based not on any work 
of merit on man's part, but on absolute trust in the divine 
promises, so that the redeemed man, while not ceasing to be 
a sinner, yet is freely and fully forgiven, and from the new and 
joyous relationship to God in Cl^ist, the new life of willing 


conformity to God's will flows. It was a re-emphasis of a most 
important side of the Pauline teaching. Yet it was not wholly 
Pauline. To Paul the Christian is primarily a renewed moral 
being. To Luther he is first of all a forgiven sinner ; but Luther, I j / y 
like Paul, made salvation in essence a right personal relation* / 1 [ 
ship to God. The ground and the pledge of tiiis right relation* 
ship is the mercy of God displayed in the sufferings of Christ 
in man's behalf. Christ has borne our sins. We, in turn, 
have imputed to us His righteousness. The German mystics, 
especially Tauler, now helped Luther to the conclusion that 
this transforming trust was not, as he had sup{>osed, a work 
in which a man had a part, but wholly the gift of God. The 
work preparatory to his lectures on Romans (1515-1516) but 
intensified these convictions. He now declared that the com- 
mon opinion that God would infallibly infuse grace into those 
who did what was ia their power was absurd and Pelagian. 
The basb of any work-righteousness had been overthrown for 

While thus convinced as to the nature and method of sal- 
vation, Luther's own peace of soul was not yet secured. He 
needed the further conviction of certainty of his own personal 
justification. That certainty he had, with Augustine, denied. 
Yet as he labored on the latter part of his lectures on Romans, 
and even more clearly in the closing months of 1516, his con- 
fidence that the God-given' nature of faith involved personal 
assurance became conviction. Thenceforth, in his own per- 
sonal experience the sum of the Gospel was the forgiveness of 
sins. It was '^good news," filling the soul with peace, joy, and 
absolute trust in God. It was absolute dependence on the di- 
vine promises, on God's "word." 

Luther had not, thus far, consciously worked out a new 
system of theology. He had had a deep, vital experience. 
It was an experience, however, in no way to be squared with 
much of current theories of salvation in which acts, penances, 
and satisfactions had a prominent part. No theoretic con- 
siderations made Luther a reformer. He was driven by the 
force of a profound inward experience to test the beliefs and 
institutions which he saw about him. The profundity and 
nobility of Luther's experience cannot be doubted. Yet its 
applicability as a universal test may be questioned. To him 
faith was a vital^ transforming power, a new and vivifying per- 


sonal relationship. Many men, however, while sincerely de- 
sirous of serving God and their generation, have no such sense 
of personal forgiveness, no such soul-stirring depth of feeling, 
no such childlike trust. They desire, with God's aid, to do 
the best they can. For them ''justification by faith alone" is 
either well-nigh meaningless, or becomes an intellectual assent 
to religious truth. To enter into the experience of Luther or 
of Paul is by no means possible for all. 

By 1516 Luther did not stand alone. In the University of 
Wittenberg his opposition to Aristotelianism and Scholasticism 
and his Biblical theology foimd much sympathy. His col- 
leagues, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (1480?-1541), who, 
unlike Luther, had represented the older Scholasticism of 
Aquinas, and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565), now became 
his hearty supporters. 

In 1517 Luther had an opportunity to apply his new con- 
ception of salvation to a crying abuse. Pope Leo X had de- 
cided in favor of the claims of Albrecht of Brandenburg to hold 
at the same time the archbishopric of Mainz, the archbishopric 
of Magdeburg, and the admmistration of the bishopric of Hal- 
berstadt, an argument moving thereto being a lai^ financial 
payment. To indenmify himself, Albrecht secured as his share 
half the proceeds in his district of the indulgences that the 
papacy had been issuing, since 1506, for building that new 
church of St. Peter which is still one of the ornaments of Rome. 
A commissioner for this collection was Johann Tetzel (1470- 
1519), a Dominican monk of eloquence, who, intent on the 
largest possible returns, painted the benefits of indulgences 
in the crassest terms.^ To Luther, convinced that only a 
right personal relation with God would bring salvation, such 
teaching seemed destructive of real religion. As Tetzel ap- 
proached — he was not allowed to enter electoral Saxony — 
Luther preached against the abuse of indulgences and, on 
October 31, 1517, posted on the door of the castle church, m 
Wittenberg, which served as the university bulletin board, his 
ever memorable Ninety-five Theses.^ 

Viewed in themselves, it may well be wondered why the 

^ See extracts in Kidd, Doeumenia lUuatralive of the Continental R^ormor 
Han, pp. 12-20. 

s Kidd, pp. 21-26 ; English tr., Wace and Buchheim, LiUher's Primary 
Works, pp. 6-14. 


Ninely-five Theses proved the spark which kindled the ex- 
plosion. They were intended for academic debate. They do 
not deny the right of the Pope to grant indulgences. They 
question the extension of indulgences to purgatory, and make 
evident the abuses of current teaching — abuses which they 
imply the Pope will repudiate when informed. Yet though 
they are far from expressing the full roimd of Luther's thought, 
certain principles are evident in them which, if developed, 
would be revolutionary of the churchly practice of the day. 
Repentance is not an act, but a life-long habit of mind. The 
true treasury of the church is God's forgiving grace. The 
Christian seeks rather than avoids divine discipline. ''Every 
Christian who feels true compunction has of right plenary re- 
mission of pain and guilt, even without letters of pardon." In 
the restless condition of Germany it was an event of the utmost 
significance that a respected, if humble, religious leader had 
spoken boldly against a great abuse, and the Theses ran the 
length and breadth of the empire. 

Luther had not anticipated the excitement. Tetzel answered 
at once,^ and stirred Konrad Wimpina (?-1531) to make 
reply. A more formidable opponent was the able and disputa- 
tious Johann Maier of Eck (148&-1543), professor of theology in 
the University of Ingolstadt, who answered with a tract circu- 
lated in manilscript and entitled Obelisd. Luther was charged 
with heresy. He defended his position in a sermon on "In- 
dulgence and Grace" ;^ he replied to Eck. By the beginning 
of 1518, complaints against Luther had been lodged in Rome 
by Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz and the Dominicans. The 
result was that the general of the Augustinians was ordered 
to end the dispute and Luther was summoned before the 
general chapter of the order met in Heidelberg, in April. There 
Luther argued against free will and the control of Aristotle in 
theology and won new adherents, of whom one of the most 
important was Martin Butzer (Bucer). At about the same 
time Luther put forth a more elaborate defense of his position 
on indulgences, the ReaoliUiones, 

Luther had desired no quarrel with the papacy. He seems 
to have believed that 'the Pope might see the abuses of indul- 
gences as he did, but the course of events was leading to no 
choice save the sturdy maintenance of his views or submission. 

1 Kidd, pp. 30, 31. > Ibid., p. 29. 



In June, 1518, Pope Leo X Issued a citation to Luther to appear 
in Rome, and commissioned his censor of books, the Domini- 
can Silvestro Mazzolini of Prierio, to draw up an opinion on 
Luther's position. The siunmons and the opinion reached 
Luther early in August. Prierio asserted that ''the Roman 
Church is representatively the college of cardinals, and more- 
over is virtually the supreme pontiil," and that "He who says 
that the Roman Church cannot do what it actually does r^[ard- 
ing indulgences is a heretic.^' ^ Luther's case would apparently 
have speedily ended in his condemnation had he not had the 
powerful protection of his prince, the Elector Frederick, "the 
Wise." In how far Frederick sympathized with Luther's rdig- 
ious beliefs at any time is a matter of controversy; but, at all 
events he was proud of his Wittenberg professor, and averse to 
an almost certain condenmation in Rome. His political skill 
effected a change of hearing from the Roman court to the papal 
legate at the Reichstag in Augsbiu'g, the learned commentator 
on Aquinas, Cardinal Thomas Vio (1469-1534), known from his 
birthplace (Gaeta) as Cajetanus. Cajetanus was a theologian 
of Eiu-opean repute and seems to have thought the matter 
rather beneath his dignity. He ordered Luther to retract, 
especially criticisms of the completeness of papal power of in- 
dulgence. Luther refused,* and, on October 20, fled from Augs- 
burg, having appealed to the Pope "to be better informed."* 
Not satisfied with this, Luther appealed from Wittenberg, in 
November, 1518, to a future general council.* How little 
chance of a favorable hearing he had in Rome is shown by the 
bull issued the same month by Leo X defining indulgences in 
the sense which Luther had criticised.^ Luther had no real 
hope of safety. If his courage was great, his danger was no 
less so; but he was rescued from immediate condemnation by 
the favorable turn of political events. 

Meanwhile the summer of 1518 had seen the installation as 
professor of Greek in Wittenberg of a young scholar, a native 
of Bretten and grandnephew of Reuchlin, Philip Melanchthon 
(1497-1560), who was to be singularly united with Luther in 
their after work. Never was there a greater contrast. Me- 
lanchthon was timid and retiring; but he was without a superior 
in scholarship, and under the strong impress of Luther's per- 

\Kidd, pp. 31, 32. « /Wd., pp. 33-37. » /Wa., pp. 37-39. 

« /Wd., p. 40. » /Wd., p. 39. 


sonality, he devoted his remarkable abilities, almost from his 
arrival in Wittenberg, to the furtherance of the Lutheran cause. 

The Emperor, Maximilian, was now visibly nearing the end 
of his life, which was to come in January, 1519, and the 
turmoil of a disputed election was impending. Pope Leo X, 
as an Italian prince, looked with disfavor on the candidacy 
of Charles of Spain, or Francis of France, as increasing foreign 
influence in Italy, and sought the good-will of the Elector Fred- 
erick, whom he would gladly have seen chosen. It was no 
time to proceed against Frederick's favored professor. Leo, 
therefore, sent his chamberlain, the Saxon Karl von Miltitz, as 
his nuncio, with a golden rose, a present expressive of high papal 
favor, to the Elector. Miltitz flattered himself that he could 
heal the ecclesiastical quarrel and went far beyond his instruc- 
tions. On his own motion he disowned Tetzel, and held an 
interview with Luther, whom he persuaded to agree to keep 
silent on the questions in dispute, to submit the case, if possible, 
to learned German bishops, and to write a humble letter to the 

Any real agreement was impossible. Luther's Wittenberg 
colleague, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (14807-1541), had 
argued in 1518, in opposition to Eck, that the text of the Bible 
is to be preferred even to the authority of the whole church. 
Eck demanded a public debate, to which Karbtadt agreed, and 
Luther soon found himself drawn into the combat, proposing 
to contend that the supremacy of the Roman Churdi is unsup- 
ported by history or Scripture. In June and July, 1519, the 
great debate was held in Leipzig. Karlstadt, who was an un- 
ready disputant, succeeded but moderately in holding his own 
against the nimble-witted Eck. Luther's earnestness acquitted 
itself much better; but Eck's skill drove Luther to the admis- 
sion that his positions were in some respects those of Huss, and 
that in condemning Huss the revered Council of Constance 
had erred. To Eck this seemed a forensic triumph, and he 
believed victory to be his, declaring that one who could deny 
the infallibility of a general council was a heathen and a publi- 
can.' It was, indeed, a momentous declaration into which 
Luther had been led. He had already rejected the final author- 
ity of the Pope, he now admitted the fallibility of councils. 
Tliose steps implied a break with the whole authoritative 

» Kidd, pp. 41-44. « Ibid,, pp. 44-61. 


system of the Middle Ages, and allowed final appeal only to 
the Scriptures, and to ^e Scriptures, moreover, interpreted 
by the individual judgment. Eck felt that the whole con- 
troversy might now be speedily ended by a papal bull of con- 
demnation, which he now set himself to secure and which was 
issued on June 15, 1520.^ 

Luther was now, indeed, in the thick of the battle. His own 
ideas were rapidly crystallizing. Humanistic supporters, like 
I Ulrich von Hutten, were now rallying to him as one who could 
I lead in a national conflict with Rome. Lather himself was be- 
i ginning to see his task as a national redemption of Germany 
from a papacy which, rather than the individual Pope, he was 
coming to regard as antichrist. His doctrine of salvation was 
bearing larger fruitage. In his little tract. On Good Works, 
of May, 1520, after defining "the noblest of all good works" to 
be "to believe in Christ," he affirmed the essential goodness 
of the normal trades and occupations of life, and denounced 
those who " limit good works so narrowly that they must con- 
sist in praying in church, fasting or giving alms."* This vin- 
dication of the natiu*al hmnan life as the best field for the ser- 
vice of God, rather than the unnatural limitations of asceticism, 
was to be one of Luther's most important contributions to 
Protestant thought, as well as one of his most significant de- 
partures from ancient and mediaeval Christian conceptions. 

Luther's great accomplishment of the year 1520 and his 
completion of his title to leadership were the preparation of 
three epoch-making works. The first of these treatises was 
published in August, entitled To the Christian Nobility of the Oer- 
man Nation.^ Written with binning conviction, by a master 
of the German tongue, it soon ran tiie breadth of the empire. 
It declared that three Roman walls were overthrown by which 
the papacy had buttressed its power. The pretended supm- 
ority of the spiritual to the temporal estate is baseless, since 
all believers are priests. That truth of universal priesthood 
casts down the second wall, that of exclusive papal right to 
interpret the Scriptures; and the third wall, also, that a re- 
formatory council can be called by none but the Pope. "A 
true, free council" for the reform of the church should be sum- 

1 Kidd, pp. 74-79. * Robinson, Readings, 2 : 6&-68. 

s Translated in full in Wace and Buchheim's, Luther^a Primary Workt, 
pp. 17-«2. 


moned by the temporal authorities. Luther then proceeded 
to lay down a progranune for reformatory action, his sugges- 
tions being practical rather than theological. Papal mis- 
government, appointments, and taxation are to be curbed; 
burdensome offices abolished; German ecclesiastical interests 
should be placed under a " Primate of Germany" ; clerical mar- 
riage permitted ; the far too numerous holy days reduced in 
the interest of industry and sobriety; beggary, including that 
of the mendicant orders, forbidden; brothels closed; luxury 
curbed; and theologibal education in the universities reformed. 
No wonder the effect of Luther's work was profound. He had 
voiced what earnest men had long been thinking. 

Two months later Luther put forth in Latin his Babylonish 
CaptmJty of the Church,^ in which questions of the highest theo- 
logical import were handled and the teaching of the Roman 
Church unsparingly attacked. The sole value of a sacrament, 
Luther taught, is its witness to the divine promise. It seals or 
attests the God-given pledge of union with Christ and forgive- 
ness of sins. It strengthens faith. Tried by the Scripture 
standard, there are only two sacraments, baptism and the 
Lord's Supper, though penance has a certain sacramental value 
as a return to baptism. Monastic vows, pilgrimages, works of 
merit, are a man-made substitute for the forgiveness of sins 
freely promised to faith in baptism. Luther criticised the denial 
of the cup to the laity, doubted transubstantiation, for which 
he would substitute a theory of consubstantiation derived from 
d'Ailli, and especially rejected the doctrine that the Supper is 
a sacrifice to God. The other Roman sacraments, confirma- 
tion, matrimony, orders, and extreme unction, have no sacra- 
mental standing in Scripture. 

It is one of the marvdis of Luther's stormy career that he was 
able to compose and issue, contemporaneously with these 
intensely polemic treatises, and while the papal bull was being 
published in Germany, his third great tractate of 1520, that On 
Christian Liberty^ In calm confidence he presented the para- 
dox of Christian experience: ''A Christian man is the most 
free lord of aU, and subject to none; a Christian man is the 
most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one." He is 
free, since justified by faith, no longer under the law of works 

* Luther*8 Primary Works, pp. 141-245. 
«/6ui.„ pp. 96-137. 


and in new personal relationship with Christ. He is a servant 
because bound by love to bring his life into conformity to the 
will of God and to be helpful to his neighbor. In this tract, 
in an elsewhere unmatched measure, the power and the limita- 
tions of Lutheranism are evident. To Luther the essence of 
the Gospel is the forgiveness of sins, wrought through a faith, 
which, as with Paul, is nothing less than a vital, personal trans- 
f ormmg relationship of the soul with Christ. It is unquestionr 
ably the highest of Christian exi)eriences. Its limitation, as 
already pointed out, is that this experience, if r^arded as the 
sole type of true religion, is one beyond the practical attain- 
ment of many earnest men. To this tract Luther prefaced a 
letter to Pope Leo X, which is a most curious document, breath- 
ing good-will to the Pontiff personally, but full of denunciation 
of the papal court and its daims for the papacy, in which the 
Pope is represented as ''sitting like a lamb in the midst of 
wolves." Though Luther's vision was to clarify hereafter 
regarding many details, his theological system was thus prac- 
tically complete in its main outlines by 1520. 

Meanwhile Eck and Girolamo Aleander (1480-1542) had 
come with the papal bull, as nimcios, to Grennany. In Witten- 
berg its publication was refused, and its reception in large parts 
of Germany was lukewarm or hostile, but Aleander secured its 
publication in the Netherlands, and procured the burning of 
Luther's books in Louvain, Li6ge, Antwerp, and Cologne. On 
December 10, 1520, Luther answered by burning the papal 
bull and the canon law, with the approving presence of students 
and citizens of Wittenberg, and without opposition from the 
civil authorities. It was evident that a considerable section of 
Germany was in ecclesiastical rebellion, and the situation de- 
manaded the cognizance of the highest authorities of the 

On June 28, 1519, while the Leipzig disputation was in prog- 
ress, the imperial election had residted in the choice of Maxi- 
milian's grandson Charles V (1500-1558). Heir of Spain, the 
Netherlands, the Austrian territories of the house of Habs- 
burg, master of a considerable portion of Italy, and of newly 
discovered territories across the Atlantic, his election as Holy 
Roman Emperor made him the head of a territory vaster than 
that of any single ruler since Charlemagne. It was an author- 
ity greatly limited, however, in Gerznany by the territorial 


powers of the local princes. As yet Charles was young and 
unknown, and both sides in the religious struggles of the day 
had strong hope of his support. In reality he was an earnest 
Roman Catholic, of the type of his grandmotheri Isabella of 
Castile, sharing her reformatory views, desirous of improve- 
ment in clerical morals, education, and administration, but 
whoUy unsympathetic with any departure from the doctrinal or 
hierarchical system of the Middle Ages. He had at last come 
to Germany, and partly to regulate his government in that 
land, partly to prepare for the war about to break out over the 
rival claims of France and Spain in Italy, had called a Reichs- 
tag to meet in Worms in November, 1520. Though there was 
much other business, all felt the determination of Luther's case 
of high importance. The i>apal nuncio, Aleander, pressed for 
a prompt condenmation, especially after the final papal bull 
against Luther was issued on January 2, 1521. Since Luther 
was already condenmed by the Pope, the Reichstag had no 
duty, Aleander urged, but to make that condenmation effective. 
On the other hand, Luther had wide popular support, and his 
ruler, the Elector Frederick the Wise, a master of diplomatic in- 
trigue, was, fortunately for Luther, of the opinion that the con- 
denmed monk had never had an adequate trial. Frederick, and 
otiier nobles, believed that he should be heard before the Reichs- 
tag previous to action by that body. Between the two coun- 
sels the Emperor wavered, convinced that Luther was a damna- 
ble heretic, but politician enough not to oppose German senti- 
ment too sharply, or to throw away the possible advantage of 
making the heretic's fate a lever in bringing the Pope to the 
imperial side in the struggle with France. 

The result was that Luther was smnmoned to Worms un- 
^er the protection of an imperial safe-conduct. His journey 
thither from Wittenberg was well-nigh a popular ovation. On 
April 17, 1521, Luther appeared before the Emperor and Reichs- 
tag. A row of his bool^ was pointed out to him and he was 
asked whether he would recant them or not. Luther requested 
time for reflection. A day was given him, and on the next 
afternoon he was once more before the assembly. Here he 
acknowledged that, in the heat of controversy, he had expressed 
himself too strongly against persons, but the substance of 
what he had written he could not retract, unless convinced of 
its wrongfulness by Scripture or adequate argument. The 


Emperor, who could hardly believe that such temerity as to 
deny the infallibility of a general council was possible, cut the 
discussion short. That Luther cried out, "I cannot do other- 
wise. Here I stand. God help me, Amen," is not certain, 
but seems not improbable. The words at least expressed the 
substance of his unshaken determination. He had borne a 
great historic witness to the truth of his convictions before the 
highest tribunal of his nation. Of his dauntless courage he 
had given the completest proof. The judgment of his hearers 
was divided, but if he alienated the Emperor and the prelates 
by his strong and, as it seemed to them, self-wiUed assertion, 
he made a favorable impression on many of the German no- 
bility and, fortunately, on the Elector Frederick. That prince, 
though he thought Luther too bold, was confirmed in his de- 
termination that no harm should come to the reformer. Yet 
the result seemed a defeat for Luther. A month after Luther 
had started on his homeward journey he was formally put under 
the ban of the empire, though not till after many of the mem- 
bers of the Reichstag had l^t. He was to be seized for pun- 
ishment and his books burned.^' This ban was never formally 
abrogated, and Luther remained the rest of his life under im- 
perial condemnation. 

Had Germany been controlled by a strong central authority 
Luther's career would soon have ended in martyrdom. Not 
even an imperial edict, however, could be executed against the 
will of a vigorous territorial ruler, and Frederick the Wise 
proved once more Luther's salvation. Unwilling to come out 
openly as his defender, perhaps somewhat afraid to do so, he 
had Luther seized by friendly hands, as the reformer journeyed 
homeward from Worms, and carried secretly to the Wartbitfg 
Castle, near Eisenach. For months Luther's hiding-place was 
practically unknown; but that he lived and shared in the for- 
tunes of the struggle his ready pen made speedily apparent. 
His attacks on the Roman practice grew more intense, but the 
most lasting fruit of this period of enforced retirement was his 
translation of the New Testament, begun in December, 1521, 
and published in September of the following year. Luther 
was by no means the first to translate the Scriptiu^s into Ger- 
man, but the earlier versions had been made from the Vulgate, 
and were hard and awkward in expression. Luther's work 

^ Kidd, DocumenU, pp. 79-^. 


was not merely from the Greek, for which the labors of Eras- 
mus gave the basis, it was idiomatic and readable. It largely 
determined the form of speech that should mark future German 
literature — that of the Saxon chancery of the time — ^wrought 
and polished by a master of popular expression. Few services 
greater than this translation have ever been rendered to the 
development of the religious life of a nation. Nor, with all 
his deference to the Word of God, was Luther without his own 
canons of criticism. These were the relative clearness with 
which his interpretation of the work of Christ and the method 
of salvation by faith is taught. Judged by these standards, he 
felt that Hebrews, James, Jvde, and Revelation were of inferior 
worth. Even in Scripture itself there were differences in value. 
The month which saw the beginning of Luther's work as a 
translator — December, 1521 — ^witnessed the publication in 
Wittenberg of a small volume by Melanchthon, the Loci Com-- 
munes, meaning Cardinal Points of Theology. With it the 
systematic presentation of Lutheran theology may be said to 
have begun.^ It was to be enlarged, developed, and modified 
in many later editions. 


Luther's sojourn in the Wartburg left Wittenberg without his 
powerful leadership; but there were not wanting many there 
to continue the ecclesiastical revolution. To his earlier asso- 
ciates in the university, Karlstadt, Melanchthon, and Nikolaus 
von Amsdorf (1483-1565), there had been added, in the first 
half of the year 1521, Johann Bugenhagen (1485-1558) and 
Justus Jonas (1493-1555). Of these, Karlstadt had unques- 
tionably greatest natural leadership, but was rash, impulsive, 
and radical. Luther had as yet made no changes in public 
worship or in monastic life. Yet it was inevitable that demand 
for such changes should come. Luther's fiery fellow monk, 
Gabriel Zwilling (1487?-1558), by October, 1521, was de- 
nouncing the mass and urging the abandonment of clerical vows. 
He soon had a large following, especially in the Augustinian 
monastery of Wittenberg, many of the inmates of which now 
renounced their profession. With equal zeal Zwilling was soon 
attacking images. At Christmas, 1521, Karlstadt celebrated 

> £2xtracts in Kidd, Documenta, pp. QQ-M. 


the Lord's Supperb» the castle church, without priestly garb, 
sacrificial offeringffelevation of the host, and with the cup 
offered to the laity. Auricular confession and fasts were aban- 
doned. Karlstadt taught that aU ministers should many, and, 
in January, 1522, took to himself a wife. He was soon oppos- 
ing the use of pictures, organs, and the Gregorian chanting in 
public worship. Under his leadership the Wittenberg dty 
government broke up the ancient rdigious fraternities and 
confiscated their property, decreed that the services should be 
in (xerman, condemned pictures in the churches, and forbad 
beggary, ordering that really needy cases be aided from the 
city treasury. The public commotion was augmented by the 
arrival, on December 27, 1521, of three radical preachers from 
Zwickau, chief of whom were Nikolaus Storch and Markus 
Thoma Stiibner. These men claimed immediate divine in- 
spiration, opposed infant baptism, and prophesied the speedy 
end of the world. Melandithon was somewhat shaken by 
them at first, though their influence in general has been exag- 
gerated. They undoubtedly added something to a state of 

These rapid changes, followed by a popular attack on images, 
were highly displeasing to Elector Frederick the Wise, and they 
drew forth the warning protests of German princes and the im- 
perial authorities. Though Luther was to further, within the 
next three or four years, most of the changes whidi Karlstadt 
and Zwilling had made, he now felt that his cause was in peril 
through a dangerous radicalism. The city government ap- 
pealed to Luther to return. The Elector nominally fori>ad 
him, out of political considerations, but on March 6, 1522, 
Luther was once more in Wittenberg, which thenceforth was 
to be his home. Eight days of preaching showed his power. 
The Gospel, he declared, consisted in the knowledge of sin, in 
forgiveness through Christ, and in love to one's neighbor. 
The alterations, which had raised the turmoil, had to do with 
externals. They should be effected only in a spirit of consid- 
eration of the weak. Luther was master of the situation. 
Karlstadt lost all influence and had to leave the city. Many 
of the changes were, for the moment, undone, and the <dd 
order of worship largely re-established. Luther thus showed 
a decidedly conservative attitude. He oppc^ not meiely 

1 Kidd, pp. »4^104. 



the Romanists, as heretofore, but those of the revolution who - 
would move, as he believed, too rapidly. The separations in 
the reform party itself had begun. Yet there can be no doubt 
as to Luther's wisdom. His action caused many of the Grerman 
nilers to look upon him with kindliness, as one who, though 
condenmed at Worms, was really a force for order in troublous 
times, and continued especially that favor of his Elector with- 
out which his cause would even now have made speedy ship- 

Meanwhile the Emperor's hands were tied by the great war 
with France for the control of Italy, which was to keep him 
absent from Germany from 1522 to 1530. Effective interfere . 

ence on his part with the Reformation was impossible. Pope 
Ijeo X had closed his splendor-loving reign in December, 1521, 
and had been succeeded by Charles V's old Netherlandish 
tutor as Adrian VI — a man of strict mediaeval orthodoxy, but 
fully conscious of the need of moral and administrative reform 
in tibe papal court, whose brief papacy of twent}** months was 
to be a painfully fruitless effort to check the evils for which 
he believed Luther's heretical movement to be a divine pun- 
ishment. Sympathy with Luther was rapidly spreading, not 
merely throughout Saxony, but in the cities of Germany. To 
the Reichstag, which met in Nuremberg in November, 1522, 
Adrian now sent, demanding the enforcement of the edict of 
Worms against Luther, while admitting that much was amiss 
in ecclesiastical administration. The Reichstag replied by de- 
claring the edict impossible of enforcement, and by demand- 
ing a council for churchly reform, to meet within a year in 
Germany, while, pending its assembly, only the "true, pure, 
genuine, holy Grospel" was to be preached. The old complaints 
ajgainst papal misgovemment were renewed by the Reichstag, 
lliough not in form, it was in reality a victory for Luther and 
his cause. It looked as if the Reformation might gain the sup- 
port of the whole German nation.^ 

Under these favorable circmnstances Evangelical congregar 
tions were rapidly forming in many regions of Oermany, as yet 
without any fixed constitution or oMer of service. Luther now 
was convinced that such associations of bdievers had fdll 
power to appoint and depose their pastors. He held, also, 
however, that the tempond rulers, as in the positions of chief 

^ Kidd, pp. 105-121. 


power and responsibility in the Christian community^ had a 
prime duty to further the Gospel. The experiences of the 
immediate future, and the necessities of actual church organ- 
ization within extensive territories, were to turn Luther from 
whatever sympathy he now had with this free-churchism to a 
strict dependence on the state. To meet the demands of the 
new Evangelical worship, Luther issued, in 1523, his Ordering of 
\ Worship, in which he emphasized the central place of preach- 
I ing; his Formula of the Mass, in which, though still using Latin, 
he did away with its sacrificial implications, recommended the 
cup for lay usage, and urged the employment of popular hymns 
by the worshippers; and his Taufbiichlein, in which he presented 
a baptismal service in German. The abandonment of private 
masses and masses for the dead, with their attendant fees, 
raised a serious problem of ministerial support, which Luther 
proposed to solve by salaries from a conunon chest maintained 
j by the municipality. Luther held that great freedom was per- 
J missible in details of worship, as long as the "Word of God" 
was kept central. The various reformed congregations, there- 
fore, soon exhibited considerable variety, and the tendenpy to 
the use of Grerman rapidly increased, Luther himself issuing a 
German Mass in 1526. Confession Luther regarded as exceed- 
ingly desirable as preparing the undeveloped Christian for the 
Lord's Supper, but not as obligatory. Judged by the develop- 
ment of the Reformation elsewhere, Luther's attitude in mat- 
ters of worship was strongly conservative, his principle being 
that "what is not contrary to Scripture is for Scripture and 
Scripture for it." He therefore retained much of Roman usage, 
such as the use of candles, the crucifix, and the illustrative 
employment of pictures.^ 

Thus far the tide had been running strongly in du^ctions 
favorable to Luther, but with the years 1524 and 1525 separa- 
tions began, the effects of which were to limit the Reformation 
movement, to make Luther a party rather than a nationid 
leader, to divide Germany, and to throw Luther into the arms 
of the temporal princes. The first of these separations was 
from the himianists. Their admired leader, Erasmus, had lit- 
tle sympathy with Luther's doctrine of justification by faith 
alone. To his thinking reform would come by education, the 
rejection of superstition and a return to the "sources" of 

1 Kidd, 121-133. 


Christian truth. The stormy writings of Luther and the popu- 
lar tumult were becoming increasingly odious to him. In com- 
mon with humanists generally, he was alarmed by the great 
decline in attendance on the German universities, which set 
in universally with the rise of the religious controversy, and 
the fading of interest in purely scholarly questions. Though 
frequently lu'ged, he was long reluctant to attack Luther, how- ^ 
ever; but at last, in the autumn of 1524, he challenged Luther's 
denial of free will. To Erasmus Luther replied, a year later, '^ 
with the stiffest possible assertion of determinism and predes^ 
tination, though Melanchthon was soon to move in the oppo- 
site direction. The breach between Luther and Erasmus was 
incurable. Most of the humanists deserted Luther, though "^ 
among the disciples of Melanchthon a yoimger school of Lu- 
theran humanists slowly developed.^ 

To some in Germany Luther seemed but a half-way reformer. 
Such a radical was his old associate Karlstadt, who, having lost ' 
all standing in Wittenberg, went on to yet more radical views 
and practices and, securing a large following in Orlamiinde, 
practically defied Luther and the Saxon government. He 
denied the value of education, dressed and lived like the peas- 
antry, destroyed images, and rejected the physical presence 
of Christ in the Supper. Even more radical was Thomas 
Munzer, who asserted inmiediate revelation and attacked 
Romanists and Lutherans alike for their dependence on the ; 
letter of the Scripture. A man of action, he led in riotous at- ^ 
tacks on monasteries, and preached battle against the ''god- 
less." These and men like them Luther strongly opposed, 
naming them Schwarmer, i, e., fanatics ; but their presence in- 
dicated a growing rift in the forces of reform. ^ 

Yet more serious was a third separation — ^that caused by v^ 
the peasants' revolt. The state of the German peasantry had \ 
long been one of increasing misery and consequent unrest, 
especially in southwestern Grermany, where the example of 
better conditions in neighboring Switzerland fed the discon- 
tent. With the peasant revolt Lutheranism had little directly 
to do. Its strongest manifestations were in regions into which 
the reform movement had but slightly penetrated. Yet the 
religious excitement and radical popular preaching were un- 
doubtedly contributing, though not primary, causes. Begun 

1 Kidd, pp. 171-174. 


in extreme southwestern Germany in May and Jmie, 1524, the 
insurrection was exceedingly formidable by the spring of the 
following year. In March, 1525> the peasants put forth twelve 
articles/ demanding the right of each conmiunity to choose 
and depose its pastor, that the great tithes (on grain) be used 
for the support of the pastor and other community expenses, 
and the small tithes abolished, that serfdom be done away, 
reservations for hunting restricted, the use of the forests al- 
lowed to the poor, forced labor be regulated and duly paid, 
just rents fixed, new laws no longer enacted, common lands re- 
stored to communities from which they had been taken, and 
payments for inheritance to their masters abolished. To 
modem thinking these were moderate and reasonable requests. 
To that age they seemed revolutionary. 

Other groups of peasants, one of which had Thomas Munzer 
as a leader, were far more radical. Luther at first attempted 
to mediate, and was disposed to find wrong on both sides ; but 
as the ill-led rising fell into greater excesses he turned on the 
peasants with his savage pamphlet. Against the Murderous and 
Thieving Rabble of the Peasants, demanding that the princes 
crush them with ^e sword. The great defeat of Francis I of 
France, near Favia by the imperial army on February 24, 1525, 
had enabled the princes of Germany to master the rising. The 
peasant insurrection was stamped out in frightful bloodshed* 

Of the separations, that occasioned by the peasants' war was 
undoubtedly the most disastrous. Luther felt that his Gospel 
could not be involved in the social and economic demands of 
the disorderly peasants. But the cost was great. Fopular 
sympathy for his cause among the lower orders of southern 
Germany was largely forfeited, his own distrust of the conunon 
man was augmented, his feeling that the reform must be the 
work of the temporal princes greatly strengthened. His oppo- 
nents, moreover, pointed to these risings as the natural fnutage 
of rebellion against the ancient church. 

Meanwhile the medieval, though in his way reformatory, 
Adrian VI had died, and had been succeeded in the papacy, in 
November, 1523, by Giulio de' Medici as Clement VII (1523- 
1534) — a man of respectable character but with Uttle sense of 
the importance of religious questions, and primarily in policy 
an Italian worldly prince. To the new Reichstag assembled in 

1 Kidd, pp. 174-179. 


Nuremberg in the spring of 1524, Clement sent as his legate the i 
skilful cardinal, Lorenzo Campeggio (1474-1539). With the/ 
Reichstag Campeggio could effect little. It promised to enforce 
the Edict of Worms against Luther ''as far as possible/' and 
demanded a ''general assembly of the German nation" to meet 
in Speier, in the followmg autumn. This gathering the absent 
Emperor succeeded in frustrating. Campeggio's real success 
was, however, outside the Reichstag. TTirough his efforts a I 
league to support the Roman cause was formed in RegensJ^jirg, I 
on July 7, 1524, embracing the Emperor's brother, F(^3inand, I 
the dukes of Bavaria, and a niunber of south German bishops. J 
A fifth of the ecclesiastical revenues was assigned to the lay/ 
princes, regulations to secure a more worthy clergy enacted, 
clerical fees lightened, the number of saints' days to be observed 
as holidays diminished, and preaching to be in accordance with 
the Fathers of the ancient church rather than the schoolmen.* 
It was the beginning of a real Counter-Reformation; but its 
effect was to increase the separation of parties in Germany, and 
to strengthen the line of demarcation on the basis of the pos- 
sessions of rival territorial princes. The nation was in hope- 
less division. 

While Rome was thus strengthened in southern Germany 
Luther's cause received important accessions. Chief of these 
was the adhesion, in 1524, of the far-sighted landgrave Philip 
of Hesse (1518-1567), the ablest politician among tibe Lutheran 
princes. At the same time Albert of Prussia, grand master of 
the Teutonic Knights, George of Brandenburg, Henry of Meck- 
lenburg, and Albert of Mansfeld were showing a decided in- 
terest in the Evangelical cause. The important cities, Magde- 
burg, Nuremberg, Strassburg, Augsburg, Esslingen, Ulm, and 
others of less moment had also been won by 1524. 

It was in the dark days of the peasant revolt that Luther's 
cautious protector, Frederick the Wise, died (May 5, 1525), 
and was succeeded by his brother John "the Steadfast" (1525- 
1532) . The change was favorable to Luther, for the new Elector 
was a declared and active Lutheran. In these months falls, 
also, Luther's marriage to Katherine von Bora (1499-1552), 
on June 13, 1525, a union which was to manifest some of the 
most winsome traits of the reformer's character. The marriage 
was rather suddenly arranged, and the charge sometimes made 

^ Kidd, pp. 133*151. 


that de^re for matrimony had any share in Luther's revolt 
from Rome is palpably absurd ; but, though this repudiation 
of clerical celibacy was undoubtedly favorable in its ultimate 
results, it was, at the time, an added cause of division, and the 
union of an ex-monk and a former nun seemed to give point 
to the bitter jibe of Erasmus liiat the Reformation, which had; 
appeared a tragedy,' was really a comedy, the end of which was 
a wedding.^ 

The suppression of the peasant revolt had left the princes 
and the cities the real ruling forces in Germany, and political 
combinations were now formed for or against the Reformation. 
Such a league of Catholics was instituted by Duke George 
of Saxony and other Catholic princes met in Dessau in July, 
1525 ; and as a reply Philip of Hesse and the new Elector John of 
Saxony organized a Lutheran league in Torgau. The great 
imperial victory of Pavia m the previous February had resulted 
in the captivity of the defeated King of France, Francis I. 
The war had gone decisively in favor of the Emperor, and its 
results seemed to be garnered by the Treaty of Madrid of 
January, 1526, by which Francis gained his release. Both 
monarchs pledged themselves to combined efforts to put down 
heresy.^ The prospects of Lutheranism were indeed dark. 
From this peril the Lutheran cause owed its rescue primarily 
to the Pope. Clement VII, always more an Italian prince 
than a churchman, was thoroughly alarmed at the increase of 
imperial power in Italy. He formed an Italian league against 
the Emperor, which was joined by the French King in May, 
1526. Francis I repudiated the Treaty of Madrid, and now 
the League of Cognac ranged France, the Pope, Florence, and 
Venice against the Emperor. The results of Pavia seemed 
lost. The war must be fought over again. The Emperor's 
hands were too full to interfere in the religious struggles of 

So it came about that when the new Reichstag met in Spder 
in the summer of 1526, though the imperial instructions for- 
bad alterations in religion and ordered the execution of the 
Edict of Worms, the Lutherans were able to urge that the 
situation had changed from that contemplated by ^e Emperor 
when his commands were issued from Spain. The terrifying ad- 
vance of the Turks, which was to result in the Hungarian disas- 

' Kidd, pp. 179, 180. < Ihid,, p. 180. •Ibid,, p. 182. 


ter of Mohacz on August 29, 1526, also counselled military unity. 
The Reichstag, therefore, enacted that, pending a "council 
or a national assembly," each of the territorial rulers of the 
empire is "so to live, govern, and carry himself as he hopes 
and trusts to answer it to God and his imperial majesty." ^ 
This 'was doubtless a mere cd interim compromise; but the 
Lutheran princes and cities speedily interpreted it as full legal 
authorization to order their ecclesiastical constitutions as they 
saw fit. Under its shelter the organization of Lutheran terri- 
torial churches was now rapidly accomplished. Some steps 
had been taken toward such territorial organization even be- 
fore the Reichstag of 1526. Beyond the borders of the empire 
Albert of Brandenburg (1511-1568), the grand master of the 
Teutonic Knights in East Prussia, transformed his office into 
a hereditary dukedom under the overlordship of Poland, in 

1525, and vigorously furthered the Lutheranization of the land.^ 
In electoral Saxony itself. Elector John was planning a more 
active governmental control of ecclesiastical affairs, and 
Luther had issued his German Mass and Order of Divine Service^ 
of 1526, before the Reichstag.® The decree of the Reichstag 
now greatly strengthened these tendencies. In Hesse, Land- 
grave Philip caused a synod to be held in Homberg, in October, 

1526, where a constitution was adopted largely through the 
influence of Francis Lambert (1487-1530), a pupil of Luther. 
In each conmiunity the faithful conununicants were to con- 
stitute the governing body by which pastor should be chosen 
and discipline administered. Representatives from these local 
bodies, a pastor and a lay brother from each, should constitute 
an annual synod for all Hesse, of which the landgrave and high 
nobles shoidd also be members.^ Here was an organization 
proposed which was consonant, in large measure, with Luther's 
earlier views. But Luther had changed. He had come to 
distrust the conmion man, and on his advice the landgrave 
rejected the proposals and adopted instead the procedure of 
electoral Saxony. 

In Saxony, which became the norm in a general way for the \ 

creation of territorial churches, ''visitors" were appointed by '. 

the Elector to inquire into clerical doctrine and conduct on ' 
the basis of articles drawn up by Melanchthon in 1527, and 

1 Kidd, pp. 18^185. « Ibid,, pp. 185-193. 

» Ibid,, pp. 193-202. « Ibid., pp. 222-230. 


enlarged the following year.^ The old jurisdiction of bishops 
was cast off^ the land was divided into districts, each under a 
"superintendent" with administrative, but not spiritual, 
superiority over the parish minister, and in turn responable 
to the Elector. Unworthy or recalcitrant deigy were driven 
out, »milarity of worship secured, and monastic property, altar 
endowment and similar foundations confiscated, in part for 
the benefit of parish churches and schools, but largely for that 
of the electoral treasury. In a word, a Lutheran state church, 
coterminous with the dectoral territories, and having all bap- 
tized inhabitants as its members, was substituted for the old 
bishop-ruled church. Other territories of Evangelical (rermany 
were similarly organized. To aid in popular religious instruc- 
tion, which the confusion of a decade had reduced to a de- 
plorable condition, Luther prepared two catechisms in 1529, 
of which the Short Catechism is one of the noblest monuments 
of the Reformation.^ 

That this development of territorial churches could take 
place was due to favoring political conditions. The Emperor 
had a tremendous war to wage with domination in Italy as its 
prize. His brother, Ferdinand, was crowned King of Hun- 
gary on November 3, 1527, and thenceforth was in struggle 
with the Turks. Effective interference in Germany was im- 
possible. But fortune favored the Emperor. On May 6, 1527, 
an imperial army containing many German Lutheran recruits, 
captured Rome, shut up Pope Clement VII in the castle of 
San Angelo, and subjected the city to every barbarity. Though 
fortune seemed to turn toward the Frendi in the early part of 
1528, before the end of that year the imperial forces had as- 
serted their mastery. The Pope was compelled to make his 
peace with the Emperor, at Barcelona, on June 29, 1529,' 
and France gave up the struggle by the Peace of Cambrai, on 
the 5th of the following August. The great war which had 
raged since 1521 was over, and Charles V could now turn his 
attention to the suppre^ion of the Lutheran revolt. Nor had 
the Lutheran leaders been wholly fortunate. Deceived by a 
forgery by Otto von Pack, an official of ducal Saxony, the Land- 
grave Philip of Hesse and the Elector John of Saxony had 
been convinced that the Catholics intended to attack them. 
Philip determined to anticipate the alleged plot, and was arm- 

1 Kidd, pp. 202-205, « Ibid., pp. 20&-222. « Ibid,, p. 246. 


ing for that purpose in 1528, when the forgery was discovered. 
The effect of the incident was to embitter the relations of the 
two great ecclesiastical parties. 

Under these drciunstances it was inevitable that when the 
next Reichstag met in Speier, in February, 1529, the Catholic 
majority should be strongly hostile to the Lutheran innovators. 
That Reichstag now ordered, by a majority decision, that no 
further ecclesiastical changes ^ould be made, liiat Roman 
worship should be permitted in Lutheran lands, and that all 
Roman authorities and orders should be allowed full enjoy- 
ment of their former rights, property, and incomes. This 
would have been the practical abolition of the Lutheran terri- 
torial churches. Unable to defeat this legislation, the Lutheran 
civil powers represented in the Reichstag, on April 19, 1529, 
entered a formal protest of great historic importance since it 
led to the designation of the party as "Protestant.'' It was 
supported by John of electoral Saxony, Philip of Hesse, Ernst 
of Liineburg, George of Brandenbiug-Ansbach, Wolfgang of 
Anhalt, and iJie cities Strassburg, Ulm, Constance, Nuremberg, 
Lindau, Kempten, Memmingen, Nordlingen, Heilbronn, Isny, 
St. Gallen, Reutlingen, Weissenburg, and Windsheim.^ 

The Protestant prospects were dark, and the situation de- 
manded a defensive union, which Philip of Hesse undertook to 
secure. At this critical juncture the Reformation cause was 
threatened by division between the reformers of Saxony and 
Switzerland, and by the rapid spread of the Anabaptists. 



Switzerland, though nominally a part of the empire, had long 
been practically independent. Its thirteen cantons were united 
in a loose confederacy, each being practically a self-governing 
republic. The land, as a whole, was deemed the freest in 
Europe. Its sons were in great repute as soldiers and were 
eagerly sought as mercenaries, particularly by the Kings of 
France and the Popes. Though the general status of education 
was low, humanism had penetrated the larger towns, and in 
the early decades of the sixteenth century had notably its 
home in Basel. The Swiss reformation was to have its sources 
in humanism, in local self-government, in hatred of ecclesi-* 

1 Kidd, pp. 239-245. 


astical restraint, and in resistance to monastic exactions, espe- 
cially where the monasteries were large landowners. 

Huldreich Zwingli, chief of the reformers of Grerman-speaking 
Switzerland, was born on January 1, 1484, in Wildhaus, where 
his father was the bailiff of the village and in comfortable cir- 
cwnstances. An uncle, the dean of Wesen, started him on 
the road to an education, which was continued in Basd, and 
then in Bern under the humanist Heinrich Wolflin (Lupulus), 
from 1498 to 1500. For two years Zwingli was a student in 
the University of Vieima, where Conrad Celtes had great fame 
in the classics. From 1502 to 1506 he continued his studies 
in the Unive rsity of Basel, graduating as bachelor of arts in 
1504, and receivmg Ui(r master's d^ree two years later. At 
Basel he enjoyed the instruction of the humanist Th oma s 
Wyttg nbach (1472-1526), whom he gratefully remembereaas 
having taught him the sole authority of Scripture, the death of 
Christ as the only price of forgiveness, and the worthlessness 
of indulgences. Under such teaching Zwingli became naturally 
a humanist himself, eager to go back to the earlier sources of 
Christian belief, and ctitical of what the humanists generally 
deemed superstition. He never passed through the deep ^iri- 
tual experience of sin and forgiveness that came to Lu^». 
His religious attitude was always more intellectual and radical 
than that of the Saxon reformer. 

The year of Zwingli's second graduation saw his appoint* 
ment, apparently through the influence of his clerical imde, as 
parish priest in G]g{us, Here he studied Greek, became an in- 
fluential preacher, opposed the employment of Swiss as mer- 
cenaries, save by the Pope, and in 1513 received a pension from 
the Pope, anxious to secure the continued military support of 
the Swiss. He accompanied the young men of his parish as 
chaplain in several Italian campaigns. He corresponded with 
Erasmus and other humanists. His knowledge of the world 
was increasing, and he touched life on many sides.* 

Zwingli was patriotically convinced of the moral evil of mer- 
cenary service, but the IVench, eager to enlist Swiss soldiers, 
made so much trouble in his Glarus parish that, without re- 
signing the post, he transferred his activities in 1516 to the 
still-famous pilgrim shrine of Einsiedeln. The change brought 
him enlarged reputation as a preacher and a student. To diis 

1 Kidd, pp. 374r^80. 


Einsiedeln sojourn Zwingli, always jealous of admitting indebt- 
edness to Luther, later ascribed his acceptance of the Evan- 
gelical position. The evidence that has survived points, how- 
ever, to little then beyond the more advanced humanistic at- 
titude. His own life at this time was, moreover, not free from 
reproach for breach of the vow of chastity. 

His opposition to foreign military service and reputation as . 
a preacher and scholar led to Zwingli's election by ihe Minster 
chapter in Zurich as people's priest, an office on which he en- 
tered with the commencement of 1519. He began at once the 
orderly exposition of whole books of the Bible, commencing 
with Matthew's Gospel. He now became acquainted with 
Luther's writings. He was brought near to death by the 
plague. He preached faithfully against mercenary soldiering, 
so that Zurich ultimately (May, 1521) forbad the practice.* 
His own spiritual life deepened, through bereavement by the 
death of a beloved brother in 1520, and the same year he re- 
signed his papal pension. 

Though Zwingli had thus long been moving in the reform- ' 
atory direction, it was with 1522 that his vigorous reformatory 
work began. It is interesting to note that the question first 
at issue did not grow, as with Luther, out of a profound re- 
ligious experience, but out of the conviction that only the Bible *~ 
is binding on Christians. Certain of the citizens broke the 
lenten fast, citing Zwingli's assertion of the sole authority of 
Scripture in justification. Zwingli now preached and published 
in their defense. The bishop of Constance, in whose diocese 
Zurich lay, now sent a commission to repress the innovation. 
The cantonal civil government ruled that the New Testament 
imposed no fasts, but that they should be observed for the 
sake of good order. The importance of this compromise deci- ' 
sion was that the cantonal civil authorities practically rejected 
the jurisdiction of the bishop and took the control of the 
Zurich churches into their own hands. In the August follow- ^ 
ing the Zilrich burgomaster laid down the rule that the pure 
Word of Grod was alone to be preached, and the road to revo- 
lution was thus fully open.^ 

Zwingli believed that the ultimate authority was the Chris- 
tian community, and that the exercise of that authority was -^ 
through the duly constituted organs of civil government acting 

» Kidd, pp. 384-387. « Ibid., pp. 387-408. 


in accordance with the Scriptures. Only that which the Bible 
commands, or for which distinct authorization can be found 
J in its pages, is binding or allowable. Hence his attitude toward 
the ceremonies and order of the older worship was much more 
radical than that of Luther. Really the situation in Zurich 
was one in which the cantonal government introduced the 
changes which Zwingli, as a trusted interpreter of Scripture 
and a natural popular leader, i>ersuaded that government to 
sanction. Zwingli now began a process of governmental and 
popular education, which he employed with great success. 
Persuaded by Zwingli, the cantonal government ordered a 
^ \ J94^'^^ discussion, in Janu ary, 152 3. in which the Bible only 

^ V ''■ snould be the touchstone. For this debate Zwingli prepared 
^ '*'. '^>fc sixty-seven brief articles, aflSrming that the Grospel derives no 

T ^ authority from the church, that salvation is by fiuth, and 
..- ''\ drying the sacrificial character of the mass, tihe salvatory 

* . .« '^character of good works, the value of saintly intercessors, the 
binding character of monastic vows, or the existence of pur- 
gatory. He also declared Christ to be the sole head of the 
churdi, and advocated clerical marriage. In the resulting 
debate the government declared Zwingli the victor, in that it 
affirmed that he had not been convicted of heresy, and directed 
that he should continue his preaching. It was an indorsement 
of his teaching.^ 
Changes now went rapidly. Priests and nuns married. 
^ Fees for baptisms and burials were done away. In a second 
great debate, in Octob er^ 1523 . Zwingli and his associate min- 
ister, Le oJu d (1482-1542), attacked the use of images and the 
sacrificiai^aracter of the mass. The government was with 
^ them, but moved cautiously.* Januai y . 152 4, saw a third 
great debate. The upholders of the old order were given 
choice of conformity or banishment. In June and July, 1524, 
images, relics, and organs were done away. December wit- 
nessed the confiscation of the monastic establishments, their 
property being wisely used, in large part, in the establishment 
of excellent schools. The mass continued till Holy Week <^ 
1525, when it too was abolished. The transformation was 
complete. Episcopal jurisdiction had been thrown off, the 
services put into German, the sermon made central, the char- 
acteristic doctrines and ceremonies of the older worship done 

1 Kidd, pp. 408-423. < Ibid., pp. 424-441. 


away.^ Meanwhile, on April 2, 1524, Zwingli had publicly 
married An na Rein hard. a widow, whom he and his friends, 
not without considerable unfriendly gossip, had treated as in 
some sense his wife since 1522. All this time the Popes had 
made no effective interference in Zurich affairs, largely by 
reason of the political value of Switzerland in the wars. The 
bishop of Constance had done what he could, but to no avail. 

Naturally Zwingli followed with eagerness the fortunes of 
the ecclesiastical revolution in other parts of Switzerland and 
the adjacent regions of Germany, and aided it to the utmost 
of his ability. Bas^I, where the civil authority had gained large 
influence in churchly affairs before the revolt, was won gradu- 
ally for the Evangelical cause, chiefly by JnViiiTjnj]j!^^gmr^pAiljiig 
(1482-1531), who labored there continuously from 1522. There 
the mass was abolished in 1529. (Ecolampadius and Zwingli 
were warm friends. Bern, the greatest of the Swiss cantons, 
was won for the reform in 1528, after much preliminary Evan- 
gelical labor, by a public debate in which Zwingli took part.' 
St. Gallen, SchaShausen, Glarus, and Miilhausen in Alsace were 
also won. Of even larger importance was the inclination of 
the great German city of Strassburg to the Zwinglian, rather 
than the Lutheran, point of view. In that city the Evangelical 
revolution, begun in 1521 by Matthew Zell (1477-1548), had 
been carried forward vigorously from 1523 by Wolfgang Capito 
(1478-1541) and by the able and peace-loving Martin Butzer 
(1491-1551), though not wholly completed till 1529. 

Zwingli and Luther were in many respects in substantial 
agreement, but they were temperamentally unlike, and their 
rdigious experiences had been very different. Luther had 
readied his goal by a profound religious struggle, involving a 
transforming sense of relationship between his soul and God. 
Zwingli had travelled the humanists' road, though going much 
farther than most humanists. His emphases were unlike 
Luther's. When Luther thought of the why of salvation, which 
was relatively infrequently, he gave the Augustinian answer. 
Luther's interest was mudb more in the how. To Zwingli th e 
nyjll f^f ^^ rflfK^y ^^n the way of salvation was the centr al 
fa ct _of theolog y. T o Luther the C|b ristiftn lif ^ wm nnco f 
f reftjom in forpven sdnship. To Zwingli it w as far more one 
nf fonfnjTpjt y p} fhe Will Of God as sct f6rth intheBible7 

1 Kidd, pp. 441-450. * Ibid,, pp. 459-464. 




Zwingli's nature was intellectual and critical. In no point 
of Christian doctrine was his diversity from Luther more ap- 
parent than in their unlike interpretation of the Lord's Supper, 
and here their disagreement unfortunately ultimately sundered 
the Evangelical ranks. To Luther Christ's words, "This is 
my body," were literally true. His deep religious feeling saw 
in an actual partaking of Christ the surest pledge of that union 
with Christ and forgiveness of sins of which the Supper was 
the divinely attested promise. But as early as 1521 a Dutch 
lawyer, Cornel ius H oen, had urged that the proper interpre- 
tation is "This signifies my body." Hoen's argument came 
to Zwingli's notice in 1523, and confirmed the symbolic imder- 
standing of the words to which the Swiss theologian was 
already inclined. Henceforth he denied any physical presence 
of Christ in the Supper, and emphasized its memorial charac- 
ter and its significance as uniting a congr^iation of believers 
in a common attestation of loyidty to tiieir Lord. B y 1524 
t he rival interpretations had led to an embitte red controversy 
of pampbk ts in which L uther an d JBugenhagen Oil Ulfe oiitTside 
and Z^nngli and (EcoIa^lrtlTIsjbn the otheTV and their respec- 
tive a3aQ ciate3 .IlooJr~pftjj^-^^T^ most important work of 
rUther's was his [Great] Confession Concerning the LonTs Sup- 
per, of 1628. Little diarity was shown on either side. To 
Zwingli Luther's assertion of the physical presence of Christ 
was an unreasoning remnant of Catiiolic superstition. A phys- 
ical body could be only in one place. To Luther Zwin^'s in- 
terpretation was a linflj ffTraltfit'Vn of rp^snp jt.bnvftJ^r»rjptiirf»j 

and he sought to explain the physical presence of Christ on 
ten thousand altars at once by a scholastic assertion, derived 
largely from Occam, that the qualities of Christ's divine na- 
ture, including ubiquity, were communicated to His human 
nature. Luther was anxious, also, to maintain that the be- 
liever partook of the whole divine-human Christ, and to avoid 
any dismemberment of His person. Luther declared Zwingli 
and his supporters to be no Christians, while Zwingli aflirmed 
that Luther was worse than the Roman champion, Edc. 
Zwingli's views, however, met the approval not only of Ger- 
man-speaking Switzerland but of much of southwestern Ger- 
many. The Roman party rejoiced at this evident division of 
the Evangelical forces. 
Zwingli was the most gifted of any of the reformers politi- 


cally, and developed plans which were far-reaching, though 
in the end futile. The old rural cantons, Uri, Schwyz, Unter- 
walden, and Zug, were strongly conservative and opposed to 
the changes in Zurich, and with them stood Lucerne, the whole 
constituting a vigorous Roman party. By April, 1524, these • 
had for med a l^^ }*^ t^ repiat heres y. To offset this effort and 
to carry lEvangelical preaching into yet wider territories, 
Zwingli now proposed that Ziirich enter into alliance with 
IVance and Savoy, and began negotiations with the dispos- 
sessed Duke Ulrich of Wiirttemberg. Matters drifted along, 
but a more successful attempt was the organization of ''The 
C hristian Civ ic AlUancfiA'' late in 1527, between Zurich and 
Constance,^ a league to which Bern and St. Gallen were 
added in 1528, and Bid, Miilhausen, Basel, and Schaffhausen 
in 1529. Though Strassburg joined early in 1530, the league 
was far less extensive than Zwingli planned. As it was it was 
divisive of Swiss imity, and the conservative Roman cantons 
formed a counter ''Christian Union'' and secured alliance with 
Austria in 1529. Hostilities were begun. But Austrian help 
for the Roman party was not forthcoming, and on June 25, ..* 
1529, peace was noiade between the two parties at Kappel, on \ . 
terms veiy favorable to Zurich and the Zwinglians.^ The 
league with Austria was abandoned. 

Zurich was now at tiie height of its power, and was widely 
regarded as the political head of the Evangelical cause. Yet 
the peace had been but a truce, and when, in 1531, Ziirich tried 
to force Evangelical preaching on the Roman cantons by an 
embBTgo- 9" fl^pmfflt nf fond ^iai,jtbfimj war was once more 
certam. Ziirich, in spite of Zwingli's counsels, made no ade- 
quate preparation for the struggle. The Roman cantons m ' 
moved rapidly. On October 11, 1531, they defeated the men'y^ 
of Ziirich in battie at K apg el> Among the slain was Zwingli . : 
himself. In the peace that followed' Ziirich was compelled to ^ 
abandon its alliances, and each canton was given full right to 
regulate its internal religious affairs. The progress of the 
R^ormation in German-speaking Switzerland was permanentiy 
halted, and the lines drawn substantially as they are to-day. 
In the leadership of the Ziirich church, not in his political 
ambitions, Zwingli was succeeded by the able and conciliatory 
Heinrich Bullinger (1504-1575). The Swiss movement, as a 

» Kidd, p. 469. • Ihid., p. 470. • Ibid,, pp. 475-476. 


whole, was to be modified and greatly developed by the genius 
of Calvin; and to the churches which trace their spiritual 
parentage to him, and thus in part to Zwingli, the name "Re- 
formed," as distinguished from ''Lutheran," was ultimately 
to be given. 


It has been said, in speaking of Karlstadt, that some who 
once worked with Luther came to feel that he was but a half- 
way reformer. Such was even more largely Zwingli's experi- 
ence. Among those who had been most forward in favoring 
innovations in Zurich were Conrad Grebel and Felix Mwz, 
both from prominent families of the city. They and others 
soon came to feel that Zwingli's leadership in the application of 
the Biblical test to Zurich practices was far too conservative. 
This element first came into evidence at the second great de- 
bate, in October, 1523 (ante, p. 362), where it donanded the 
immediate abolition of images and of the mass — steps for which 
the cantonal authorities were not as yet fully ready. An abler 
participant in that debate was Balthasar Hubmaier (14807- 
1528), once a pupil, then colleague and friend ofTuther's oppo- 
nent, Eck, but now preacher in Waldshut, on the northern edge 
of Switzerland. Led to Evangelical views by Luther's writings 
in 1522, he was successfully urgmg reform in his city. As 
early as May, 1523, he had come to doubt infant baptism, and 
had discussed it with Zwingli, who, according to his testimony, 
then sympathized with him. His critidsms were based on 
want of Scriptural warrant for administration to infants.^ By 
1524 Grebel and Manz had reached the same conclusion,' 
but it was not till early in 1525 that they or Hubmaier translated 
theory into practice. 

Their criticisms led, in January, 1525, to a public debate 
with Zwingli, as a consequence of which the cantonal authori- 
ties of Ziirich ordered all children baptized — ^there had evi- 
dently been delay on the part of some parents— and in par- 
ticular directed Grebel and Manz to cease from disputing, and 
banished the priest of Wytikon, Wilhelm Roubli.' To these 
men this seemed a command by an earthly power to act coun- 
ter to the Word of God. They and some of their friends 

^ Kidd, p. 451. s Jbid,, p. 452. • Ibid,, pp. 453, 454. 


gathered in a private house in Zollicon, near Zurich, on Feb- 
ruary 7, 1525, and there Manz, or Georg Blaurock, once a monk, 
instituted believers' baptism by sprinkling. A few weeks later 
a case of immersion occurred, and after Easter, Hubmaier was 
baptized in Waldshut by Roubli.^ 

These acts constituted the groups separate conmiunions. 
By their opponents they were niclmamed "Anabaptists," or vy 
rebaptizers. ReaUy, since they denied the validity of their 
baptism in infancy, the name was inappropriate, and "Bap- 
tists" would be the truer designation ; but as a title consecrated 
by long usage to a remarkable movement of the Reformation 
age, the more common name is convenient. The Zurich gov- / ' 
emment, in March, 1526, ordered Anabaptists drowned, in 
hideous parody of their belief, and a few months later Manz , 
thus suffered martyrdom.^ Zwingli opposed them with much • 
bitterness, but with little success in winning them from their 

In Waldshut Hubmaier soon gathered a large Anabaptist 
conmiunity, and was even more successful in propagating his 
opinions by his pen. In his view the Bible is the sole law of 
the chiurch, and according to the Scriptural test the proper 
order of Christian development is, pr oachinp the Word^ hga r* 

il lg, belief , baptiffTTr ^^rV^! — ^^*^ latti^r inHi^fmg flJj^nRTria/4 

wi ^ the feible as i^J aw. Waldshut, however, was soon in- 
volved in the peasant revolt — ^in how far through Hubmaier 
b doubtful — and shared the collapse of liiat movement. Hub- . 
maier had to fly, and the city was once more Catholic. Im- \ 
prisoned and tortured in Zurich, he fled to Moravia, where he 
propagated the Anabaptist movement with much success. 

These persecutions had the effect of spreading the Ana- 
baptist propaganda throughout Germany and the Netherlands. 
The movement soon assumed great proportions, especially 
among the lower classes, when the miserable failure of the peas- 
ant revolt had caused deep distrust of the Lutheran cause, now 
wholly associated with territorial princes and aristocratic dty 
magistrates. In the still Catholic parts of the emi»re the Ana- 
baptist propi^nda practically superseded the Lutheran. On t 
the other hand, Anabaptist rejection of princely control but I 
strengthened the hostility of the Lutheran and Roman authori- / 
ties. In February, 1527, a meeting of Anabaptist leaders was 

^ Ekid, pp. 454, 455. * Ibid., p. 455. > Prid., pp. 456-458. 




held in Schlatt, where sev^ articles of faith were drawn up by 
Michael S attler , an earnest andl^ortEy former monk. In diem 
believers' baptism was asserted. The church is regarded as 
composed only of local associations of baptized experiential 
Chnistians — united as the body of Christ by common observance 
of the Lord's Supper; its only weapon is excommunication. 
Absolute rejection of all "servitude of the flesh/' such as the 
worship of the Roman, Lutheran, and Zwinglian Churches, is 
demanded. Each congregation is to choose its own officers 
and administer through ti^em its discipline. While dvil gov- 
ernment is still a necessity in this imperfect world, the Chris- 
tian should have no share in it, nor should he take any form 
of oath. Here were ideas which were to be represented, in 
varying proportions, by later Baptists, Congregationalists, and 
Quakers, and through them to have a profound influence on 
the reli^ous development of England and America. 

The Anabaptist ideal implied a self-governing congregation, 
independent of state or episcopal control, having the Bible as 
its law, and living a rather ascetic life of strict conformity to 
a literal interpretation of supposedly Biblical requirements. 
The sources of these opinions are still in dispute. By some 
the Anabaptists are regarded as the radicals of the Reforma- 
tion period ; by others as the fruit of new interest in Bible read- 
ing by the literal-minded ; by still others as revivals of mediaeval 
anti-Roman sects. There is truth in all these theories. The 
Anabaptists themselves had no consciousness of connection 
with pre-Reformation movements; they made the Bible liter- 
ally their law, but many of their characteristics are undoubt- 
edly pre-Reformation. Such is their view of the Bible as a 
new law in church and state, through obedie nce to whi ch 
God's favor is to be preserved. TheynSrflis little sympathy 
with Luther's conception of the Gospel as sununed up in the 
forgiveness of sins, as with the Roman conception of sidvation 
through the sacraments. Pre-Reformation is their ascetic 
view of the Christian life. So is their conception of the state 
as a concession to sin, and unworthy of the participation of a 
Christian in its administration. Such, also, are their strong 
apocalyptic and mystical tendencies. 

The views which have been indicated were those of the 
overwhelming majority of Anabaptists; but a radical move- 
ment attracts extremists, and there were not a few who wait 


much further^ but cannot be regarded as representative of the 
Anabaptists as a whole. Sudb was the learned humanist 
JohannJD^k (?-1527), who taught an inner light superior to 
all Scripture, saw in Christ only the highest himmn example 
of love, and held that the Christian may live without sin. 
Associated with Denk in these opinions, was the learned Ludwig 
Haetzer, to whom was due, with Denk's aid, a translation of 
the Old Testament prophetical books, but who was beheaded 
for adulteries at Constance in 1529. The radical preacher, 
Hans Hut, to whose work much of the rapid spread of Ana- 
baptist views' among the working classes of south Germany 
and Austria was due, declared himself a prophet, affirming that 
])ersecution of the saints would be immediately followed by 
the destruction of the empire by the Turks, following 'whidi 
event the saints would be gathered, and by them all priests and 
unworthy rulers destroyed, whereupon Christ would vbibly 
reign on earth. In Hubmaier, Hut had a vigorous opponent, 
but Hut's preaching ended only with his death, in 1527 in 
Augsburg, through bums received in an attempt to escape 
from the prison by setting it afire. Some of the more radical 
Anabaptist leaders taught conununity of goods and social 

Everywhere the hand of the authorities, Catholic and Evan- . 
gelical, was heavy on the Anabaptists — ^though most Prot- 
estant territories used banishment rather than the death 
penalty. Their leaders were martyred. In 1527 Manz met 
death by drowning in Zurich, while Sattler was burned and his 
wife drowned near Rottenburg. The next year Hubmaier 
was burned in Vienna and his wife drowned. Blaurock was 
burned in the Tyrol in 1529. With these leaders perished 
great niunbers of their followers. Yet the movement con- 
tinued to spread, and by 1529 was exceedingly perilous for the 
Protestant cause, being looked upon by the Catholics as the 
legitimate outcome of revolt from Rome, dividing the forces 
of reform, and to the thinking of the Lutherans bringing the 
Evangelical cause into discredit. There can be no doubt that 
one important effect of the Anabaptist movement was to at- 
tach the Lutherans more strongly to the conception of prince 
and magistrate ruled territorial churches as the only guar- 
antee of good order and of effective opposition to Rome. 



The successful conclusion of the great war with France and 
reoonciliatioD with Pope Clement VII had left the Empotw 
free, in 1529, to interfere at last effectively in Gennan affairs. 
The Reichstag of Speier, of that year, alarmed at Lutheran 
progress and the spread of the Anabaptists, and consdous of 
the change in the Emperor's prospects, had forbidden further 
Lutheran advance, and practically ordered the restoration of 
Roman episcopal authority. The Lutheran minority had pro- 
tested. In this threa tening t 
t^^ted to secure a^ detenaivt 
EyangelicaT forces. The "cHit 
difference Between llie two pi 
might "he a^usted by a con 
opposed", consent was at last i 

i^uther and Meknchthon me ~" 

jLEcoIampaHius, m Philig^ cast ..,„ _„ 
lanumber ol tEe lesserleaHera' c7~BoIE"parties. ^Juring the 
Succeeding days the Marburg colloquy rap its course . Luther 
was somewhat suspicious of tbe soundness of tlie Uwiss on the 
doctrines of the TVinity and original ^, but the real point of 
difference was the presence or absence of Christ's phyucal 
body in the Supper. LutJific_teld firmly t o' the literal inter - 
•pretation of the words: "This is My body. " ZwingU lu^ed 
dthe familiar argument that a physitail l)ody couIJ not De m 

I two j>lac£a At . the same time. Agreement was im pc 
I Zwingli uijfed that both parties were, after ani'' OSBUlLtl Ureili^' 
I len, out Tiiittief declai^: "You have a diff erait spirit tfaan* 
l ,we."-' 

Yet Philip would not let the hope of a protective league 
thus vanish, and he persua ded the t wo parties to draw up 
fifteen articles of faith. On fourteen there was t 
TTie Sleeritli/Ii^ to do witli. the Supper^j _^_^_^^ 
unanimity on all save the one point as to the n ature of <. 
presence, where the differences were sta t^. Th^^ ^arbure 
'Articles both sides now signed with the prrtviainn t.l^^{ yu-h 
should show Christian love to the other as f ar as the consdw ice 
ol each may permit,"' Luther and~^Ingli eacfi leit Ma^ 
burg with the convicHon that be was the victor. On the way 
) Kidd, pp. 247-^61 * IM., pp. 2M, 2S(>. 


borne Luther prepared a somewhat more pointed series of 
articles — ^the Schw Ahyi}^ Arfirlps^ — n n the basis of tho s e of 

Marbiirg ^^^ l neir greatftcrf: aignifinanoft for thft ripvftlnpTn'pnTnf 

LfUtneramsm is, perhaps, the declaration that '^the church is 
nothing else than believers in Christ who hold, believe, and 
teach the above enumerated articles/' The original Lutheran . 
conception of a church composed of those justed by liieir \ 
faith, had become transformed into that of those who not only i 
have faith but accept a definite and exact doctrinal statement. ) 
These ^Schwabach Articles were now made by the Elector of 
Saxony and the margrave of Brandenburg-Ansbach the test 
of pohtical confederacy. Only Nuremberg of the great south 
German cities would accept them. The defensive league of 
Evangelicals which Philip had hoped, was impossible. The 
Lutherans and the Swiss each went their own way, for the divi- 
sion was permanent. ^ 

lH-JflBSSD\.l53i[L th^ <^nt the call from Italy, 

where he^w as about t o be cro wned by the Pope, for a IleTcIistag 
to meet in Augsburg. With unexpected friendliness, while de- 
claring the adjustment of religious differences to be a main 
object of its meeting, he promised a kindly hearing for all rep- 
resentations. TH* ^fpftnHpH nf fhft P»nfnirfnnfo « nfn^^^ynnp^ 

of thdr beliefs and oftiiOT^ 
^aiiJ jiEese lKey7nQ3K,afiObout iii jrpparp ^ T .nthpri Melflnch- 

llion, BugenhaC^n^^ f|rPW up tliPir r>ritir>i«^pq nf tt/^TPiP 

practicfa, wKfin» as worked over by Melanchthoijij constitute \/' 
the secoQcL or neigative, part of the. ^Av^sbur^i CqnJlessionj \ 
ajad a little later M <^l^Tipti|^ft ^ preng-re d its aflarmative arti cles, 
wh ich form tJie first p art On June 25, 1530, it was reaiT to 
"ttarilimperor in Lrerman.^^ It bore the approving signatures of 
Elector John of Saxony, his heir, John Frederick, Margrave 
George of Brandenburg-Ansbach, Dukes Ernst and Franz of 
Brunswick-Liineburg, Landgrave Philip of Hesse, Wolfgang of 
Anhalt, and of the representatives of Nur^nb^ and Reut- 
lingen. Before the dose of the Reichstag the cities of Heil- 
bronn, Kempten, Weissenburg, and Windsheim also signified 
their approval of thi s Avpsburg Confe ssion.* 

The Augsburg Con fession was chieHy the work pi the mild 
and conciliator;]^ MelanchthonJ ThougE~tgji jnlonokL cl the ^ 

» Kidd, p. 255. * Ibid,, pp. 257-259. 

s/btd., pp. 259-289; in Eng. tr. Schaff, Creeds o/ CAiis^endam, 3 : a-73. 





course of events, Luther, as under imperial ban, oould not 
come to Augsburg and remained in Coburg. Melanchthon 
modified his draft and made concessions, till checked by his 
fellow Protestants. Nor was it wholly conciliation that moved 
Mel anchthon. His purpose was t ^ ab^W ^^^^ ^^*^ T.^yt|^Arftng 
iTairaepartedTn no vital and ftssfintial respect fr^m thfi ^^''^^^^^^ 
Churc h, or even fro m the Roman Ch urdi. as ^Yfiftjl?^ 'T l^** 
garfier wniers. That" agreement is expressly affirmed, and 
many ancient heresies are carefully repudiated by name. On 
the other hand, Zwinglian and Anabaptist positi<Nis are ener- 
getically rejected. The sole, aut hority of Sc ripture is nowhere 
expresslv as serted. ^ The pap g^y J** "^ wEere cat e gorically con- 
demned. The universal priesthood of beli evers is not m en- 
tioiied. Vpt lyipUnphthnr^ ^«vp ft tVinrnnprlily grotestant tone 

Ho the confession as a whole. Justification by faith is 
mfrably define^ jt^, .t^cntfistatit aotes of _Ae_cbur cn made 
"evident; invocation sd ^illte* the m ass, denial pf Qie cup. 

monastic vnw^i^ nnH prAonriK^ fnQti'ng rpjftntftd. 

' 'To the Emperor Zwingli sent a vigorous expression of his 
views, which received scanty attention. A more significant 

event was the prpgenffttmn^ inf^Jn^^f^ r»nnfAQ«inn ]\v f^|ie Zwin- 

iween that of the Zwinglians and Lutherans was maintained . 
— Ble papar legate, Cardinal Campeggio, advised^ that the 
confession be examined by Roman theologians present in 
Augsburg. This the Emperor approved, and chief among 
these experts was Luther's old opponent, Eck. Melanchthon 
was willing to make concessions that would have ruined the 
whole Lutheran cause,^ but fortunately for it the Evangelical 
princes were of sterner stuff. The Catholic theologians pre- 
pared a confutation, which was sent back to them by the 
Emperor and Catholic princes as too polemic, and was at last 
presented to the Reichstag in much milder form on August 3. 
The Emperor still hoped for reconciliation, and committees 
of conference were now appointed ; but their work was vain — 
a result to which Luther's firmness largely contributed.' The 
Catholic majority voiced the decision of the Reichstag that 
the Lutherans had been duly confuted, that they be given 

1 Kidd, pp. 28^293. « lUd,, pp. 203, 294. » Prid., p. 29& 


till April 15, 1531, to conform; that combined action be had 
against Zwinglians and Anabaptists, and that a general comicil 
be sought within a year to heal abuses in the church. The re- 
constituted imperial law court should decide, in Catholic inter- 
est, eases of secularization.^ The Lutherans protested, de- 
clared their confession not refuted, and called attention to 
Melanchthon's Apology ^ or defense of the confession, which he 
had hastily prepared when the vanity of concessions was at 
last becoming apparent even to him. That Apology, rewritten 
and published the next year (1531), was to be one of the classics 
of Lutheranism. 

Such a situation demanded defensive union. Even Luther, 
who had held it a sin to oppose the Emperor by force, now was 
willing to leave the rightfulness of such resistance to the 

^ut zer^ whose un ion etforts were i m remi tt mg. pers uaded Stirasar 
*Burg to jaccept ^e Augsburg^ Confesnovr^-aii ^^xami^le^ jduct^ J y 
"Bad great enecF on other soutET German cities. Finally^^flo / 
'rebruary 27. 1.^.^1. thft Sr1hTn,f^1j^p.lHi<^ If^Agiift was cOBMiteted. 
ISIectom' Saxony, Hesse, Brunswick, Anhalt, and Mansfeld 
.stood in defensive agreement with the cities Strassburg, Con- 
stance, Ulm, Reutlingen, Menmiingen, Lindau, Isny, Bibe- 
rach, Magdeburg, Bremen, and Liibeck.^ 

Strong as the position of Charles V appeared on the surface 
it was not so in reality in the face of this united opposition. 
The Catholic princes were jealous of one another and of the 
Emperor. The Pope feared a general council. France was 
still to be reckoned with. The fatal day — ^April 15, 1531 — 
therefore passed without the threatened result. In October, 

f!^^\ flip A^fh nf ZTiringli af TTwpppI fay^ffjr , p. !^fiK) (}^liY£d \ 

Swiss Eywigelicalism ofjts vigorou3.hpAd« and inr.lincd south ) ^ 
German Protestantism to closer union with that of Witten- 
"bery^. The spring of 153 ?f brO"g^^ « "^^^»T^g^r-.t?J^r ^pir© I 
as a who le, th at of TurkishjiyH^" ^" ^^'^ ^^f "TS'^^^ ^»°^ I 
l)esieg6d Vienna, and before their advance religious differences^ 
had, in a measure, to give way. On Ju ly_23^ J532^ the JSmperor 

ftti^ fht> SpfinrmnrftlHin Ipj^pp fjgrep^ tp tFift tr uag.of J^UT embfilg, 

K y which a ll esdstiqg lawq^^^s over ,?emilaqaatiQfia should i^ y/ 
aropped an d peace was assured to the Protestants until .a 

s Kidd, pp. 29&-d00. * Ibid,, p. 301. 



general council , , or at le ast a new Reinhsta-g , shnii1/| o<L<y»mM<i ^ 
^hortlyl^fter Charles V left Germa ny for Italy and Spain, n ot 
'Jp rexum wll 1541. . l^ou^ji . stilT preca rious, the ftotesta ht 
outlook had greatly impr oved. 

J:^testantism now rapidTy won new territories. By 1fi34- 
Anhalt- Dessau^ H ^HgYg-^z. J'Hp W^r t* ftnd Augsburg had been 
giined. Of evSa greater moment was the conquest for Frotes-' 
tantism of Wurttemberg by Philip of Hesse, from the Em - 

TUnch — a result greatly aided by Catholic jealou^ of the power 


of the house of Habsburg. The death of Duke Gepry^e. in 1539 , 
wiKi Mln^y^ by ^^'^ ^wiitnplj cj pTotes ta ntJsm in ducEU fejaxroy, 
"^ ilio q«|TTif YPar " ^iv^'^inlidhp'iinn to rhe ket'onnaiion was 



won fr om e lertojal Rrandynhnrg 
" "nus growing victory of Lutheranism was aided by a tragic 
episode of 1533-1535, which robbed Anabaptism of its influ- 
ence in Germany — ^the Munster revolution. The Anabaptists 
in general were peaceable, if rather ignorant, people, of great 
religious earnestness, and patient endurance in persecution. 
The Munster episode was not typical of them as a whole. 
Yet there were among them many radicals of whom Hans Hut 
(ante, p. 369) was an early example. Such a leader was ^^jg^ 
chi pr Hoffma nn. At first a devoted Lut heran, he became an 
"equally eaj^eat . AnaLaptist, wifK" afliSedT cla ims to pro pneuc 
Inspiration. His great success was in Frieslan 
'that Strassburg had been divinely designat 
Jeni5ftlftfti,""Where he, as the prophet of the iiegdia^gsauon, 
sBould'^iiffer Imprisonment for six months, b ut with 1533 the 
end of the" world would oome^ and all who oppo seci . l^ 
^e destroyed.^ In this faiUi he went to Strassburg, and his 
prop&ecy was so far fulfilled that he was there imprisoned, and 
in prison he remained till his death in 1543. 

Hoffmann's apocalyptic preaching won noany disciples in 
the Netherlands. One of these, Jan Mathys, a baker of Har- 
lem, gave himself forth as the prophet Enoch, and soon spread 
a fanatical propaganda widely through the Netherlands and 
adjacent parts of Germany. Unlike Hoffmann, who would 
wait for the power of God to bring in the new age, Mathys 
would inaugiunte it by force. Popular democratic discontent 
gave him his opportunity. 

1 Kidd, pp. 302-304. 



Noffhere was this new teachinfir more infln ffltfiftl thfrfi J" 

[e Evangelical p reacher^ 
was^wm-iGf radical yiewa. in JanmnL i;a^.^-ggEer came 
Matnys^soon^t er^ ap 4 a^lailor jot Leyden^ Jan Beukelssen. 
Ifwas now asserted that God had rejected Strassburg by 
reason of its mibelief , and chosen Miinster as the new Jem- 
salem in its stead. Radicals flocked thither in large numbers. 
In February, 1534, they .gained the mastery of the city, and 
drove out those who would not accept the new order. The 
bishop of Miinster laid siege to the city. Mathys was killed 
in battle. Jan Beukelssen was proclaimed King. Polygamy 
was established, community of goods enforced, all opponents 
bloodily put down. The struggle, though heroically maintained, 
was hopeless. The bishop , , aided b y riitthnlin anH T.i^t^AH|^ 
troops, captured the aty on Jupe 24j TSV>j ft^d t.h^ gnriTivmg 



leaders were put t o death by ext reme torture. £Q£jGi£cmaj;i„^Aa ft fifttftatPiphfyi iSiirh fanfltirjfsm wiw pgpr 
{Qarly o"jjw^«^ ^»*^ J^ of^flf af tPri°^'^ ^^ ^^** ^"^Mpt'g'^^j and 

"the n ame be came one of i y nominY^ . For Lutheranism it was a 

"gSlh. it f reeTtHe LiitEeran cause from the Anabaptist rivalry, 
but it made Lutheranism even more positively than before a 
party of princely and middle-class sympathies. As for the 
Anabaptist movement itself it came^ especially in tlie Nether- 
lands, imder the wise, peiace-Ibving, anti-fanatical leadership 
of Menno Si mons (1492-1559), to whom its worthy reorganiza- 
tion was primarily due, and from whom.the term "Mennonite" 
& derived. 

*^ 'Charles^ had never ceased to hope and to labor for a gen- 
eral council, by which the divisions of the church could be 
healed and administrative reforms effected. From Clement 
VII he could not secure it. Paul III (1534-1549), who suc - 
ce eded Clements t hough by no means a singje-heartecj religiou s 

' "mJMi, had muchmore a ppreciation than Clement of the gravity 
of t he skuation caiised bythe Reformation. ll mptly ap * 
tcf^ as cay ^j)[]|^^ff <?a sparo Contar ini (1483-^1542), J^acqpo 

yanni Pietr o Caraffa ( 1 4767 1 559) j all naen deairojyia of xdoufiyj 
morals^ zeaTanif admrnistrat^iQiU who ^Iftid before IhaPppe. 





1 Kidd, pp. 307-318. 


to meet in Mantua in 1537. Before the date set the new war 
Tielween CKarierV" andT'rancis I of France (1536-1538) had 
made its assembly impossible. Charles had set his heart on 
the comicil^ and before the time that it should have opened 
he demanded of the Protestant leaders assembled in Schmal- 
kalden, in February, 1537, that they agree to take part. The 
imperial order put them in a difficult position. They had long 
talked of a general council. Luther had appealed to such a 
gathering as early as 1518. But they saw dearly that th^ 
would be outvoted, and they refused to share in the coundl 
as in an Italian city, and under the dominance of the Pope. 

Charles saw that a council was impossible for the time, 
and he now tried the experiment of reunion discussions. Such 

(were actually held in Hagenau in June, 1540, in Worms later 
in the same year, and in Regensburg in April, 1541. Melanch- 
^on, Butzer, Calvin, and others took part in one or more of 
the colloquies on the Protestant side ; Eck, Contarini, and others 
on the Catholic. It was in vain, however. The differences 
were too vital for compromise. 

It was evident to Charles V that the pathway of conciliation 
was hopeless, and that the Protestants would not share in a 
general council unless their military and political strength 
could first be reduced. That imion of Protestant interests 
was no less a peril to imperial authority in political concerns. 
It was breaking hopelessly what little unity was left in the 
empire. Charles, therefore, slowly and with many hesitations, 
developed his great plan. He would have a general coimdl 
in being. He would so reduce the strength of Protestantism by 
force that the Protestants would accept the council as a final 
arbiter ; and the council could then make such minor conces- 
sions as would be needful for the reimion of Christendom, and 
correct such abuses as Protestants and Catholics alike con- 
demned. To realize this plan he must secure three preliminary 
results. He must, if possible, divide the Schmalkaldic league 
politically ; he must ward off danger of French attack ; and the 
ever-threatening peril of Turkish invasion must, for a time at 
. least, be minimized. 

The Emperor's purpose of dividing the I*rotestants was aided 
by one of the most curious episodes of Reformation history. 
Landgrave Philip of Hesse, the political genius of the Schmal- 
kaldic league, though sacrificial in devotion to the Protestant 


cause, waS| like most princes of that age, a man of low per- 
sonal morality. Though married early to a daughter of Duke 
George of Saxony, who bore him seven children, he had no af- 
fection for her. His constant adulteries troubled his conscience 
to the extent that, from 1526 to 1539 he partook of the Lord's 
Supper but once. He grew anxious as to his soul's salvation, 
without improving his conduct. For some years he enter- 
tained the thought of a second marriage as a solution of his 
perplexities. The Old Testament worthies had practised 
polygamy. The New Testament nowhere expressly forbad it. 
Why should not he? This reasoning was strengthened by 
acquaintance with Margarete von der Sale, an attractive seven- 
teen-year-old daughter of a lady of his sister's little court. 
The mother's consent was won on condition that the Elector 
and the duke of Saxony, and some others should be informed 
that it was to be a real marriage. Philip's first wife also con- 
sented. Philip was fully persuaded himself of the rightfulness 
of the step, but for the sake of public opinion, he desired the 
[approval of the Wittenberg theologians. He therefore sent 
for Butzer of Strassburg, whom he partly persuaded, partly 
frightened with threats of seeking dispensation from the Em- 
peror or the Pope, into full support of his plan. Butzer now 
became Philip's messenger to Luther and Melanchthon, and 
to the Saxon Elector, though the matter was presented as an 
abstract question, without mention of the person with whom 
marriage was contemplated. On December 10, 1539, Luther 
and Melanchthon gave their opinion. Polygamy they declared 
to be contrary to the primal law of creation, which Christ had 
approved; but a special case required oftentimes treatment 
winch did not conform to the general rulei If Philip could not 
reform his life, it would be better to marry as he proposed 
than to live as he was doing. The marriage should, however, 
be kept absolutely a secret, so that the second wife should ap- 
pear to be a concubine. The advice was thoroughly bad, 
though the Wittenberg reformers seem to have been moved 
by a sincere desire to benefit Philip's soul. 

Philip was more honorable than the adviop. Op March 4. I 
.^40. he mam ea Margarete in what, ttio ugh pr ivate, cannot be ' 
sailed secret fashion. A court preacher performed the cere- 
mony, and Melanchthon, Butzer, and a representative of the 
Saxon Elector were among the witnesses. Though an attempt 


was made to keep the affair private, that soon proved impos- 
sible. Luther could only advise '' a good strong lie " ; but PhOip 
was manly enough to declare : " I will not lie/' 

The scandal was great, both among Ph>testants and Catholics. 
The other Evangelical princes would not defend Philip's act 
or promise protection from its results. The Emperor saw in 
it his opportunity. On June 13, 1541, he secured an agree- 
ment from Philip, as the price of no worse consequences, that 
the landgrave would neither personally, nor as representative 
of the Sdmialkaldic league, make alliances with foreign states. 
The hopeful negotiations with France, England, Denmark, 
and Sweden, which would have greatly strengthened the power 
of the Schmalkaldic league against the Emperor had to be 
dropped. Worse than that, Philip had to promise not to aid 
the Evangelically inclined Duke Wilhelm of Cleves, whose rights 
over Gelders Charles disputed. As the Saxon Elector was Wfl- 
helm's brother-in-law, and determined to support him, a seri- 
ous division in the Schmalkaldic league was the result, which 
showed its disastrous consequences when the Emperor de- 
feated Wilhelm, in 1543, took Gelders permanently into his own 
possession, and forced Wilhelm to repudiate Lutheranism. 
This defeat rendered abortive a hopeful attempt to secure the 
great archbishopric of Cologne for the Protestant cause.^ 

Fortune favored Charles in the rest of his progranune. Paul 
III was persuaded to call the General Council to meet in 
Trent, a town then belonging to the empire, but practically 
I Italian, in 1542. War caused a nostponement. but in Decem- 

wluck were to 

^^^^^^ . - . ^^ ^^*^5' 

•'btttindelinite, promises Charles secured, at the Reichstag in 

Speier in 1544, the passive support of the Protestants, and 
some active assistance, for the wars against France and the 
Turks. The campaign against France was brief. The Em- 
peror, in alliance with Henry VIII of England, pushed on nearly 
to Paris, when, to the surprise of Europe he made peace with 
the French King, without, apparently, gaining any of the 
advantages in his grasp. Really, he had eliminated French 
inter ferenc e in jgossible aid of umnan Pr otestantism tor th e 
iDMfaedl4te Eiiu^^ The Turks, busy with a war m rersia, 
and internal quarrels, made a truce with the Emperor in 

» Kidd, pp. 350-364. i IM,, p. 354, 


October, 1545. All seemed to have worked together for his 
blow against Gennan Protestantism. 

It was while prospects were thus darkening that Luther died 
on a visit to Eisleben, the town in which he was bom, on 
JFebruaiy 18,1 1546. in conseque nce of ^n attack of hear t-disease 
or apo pl exy, last years had been far from happy. His 
^eafihhad long been wretched. The quarrels of the reformers, 
to which he had contributed his fuU share, distressed him. 
Above all, the failure of the pure preaching of justification by 
faith alone greatiy to transform the social, civic, and political 
life about him grieved him. He was comforted by a happy 
home life and by fuU confidence in his Gospel. The work 
which he had begun had passed far beyond the power of any 
one man, however gifted, to control. He was no longer needed; 
but his memory must always be that of one of the most titanic 
figures in the history of the church. * 

Before actually entering on the war, Charles succeeded yet 
further in dividing the Protestants. Ducal Saxony had be- 
come fully Protestant under Duke Heinrich (1539-1541), but 
his short reign had been followed by the accession of his young 
son, Moritz (1541-1553). Of great political abilities, Moritz was 
a character di£Scult to estimate, because in an age dominated 
by professed religious motives, however in reality oftentimes 
political, he cared nothing for the religious questions involved 
and everything for his own political advancement. Though 
son-in-law of Philip of Hesse and cousin of Elector John Fred- 
erick of Saxony (1532-1547), Moritz had quarrelled with the 
Elector and was not on very good terms with Philip. The 
Emperor now, in June, 1546, secured his support secretiy, by 
the promise of the transfer to Moritz of his cousin's electoral 
dignity in case of successful war, and other important con- 
cessions. Thus at length prepared, the Emperor declared 
John Frederick and Philip under ban for disloyalty to the 
empire — Charies desired the war to seem political ratiier than 
religious. The Schmalkaldic league had made no adequate 
preparations. Moritz's defection was a great blow. Thoua^h 

at first th ft PATT^pit^iyin went well fnr thp Pmf#>Qfi>nfq jl^of/^nl 

^axpnv w^ crushed at the bat tjf fif ]Vr]ihlhp''g tti th? Flha, on 

April 24. 1547. in which John Frederick was captured. Phi lip 

saw the cause was hny^lpsa anH QiirrPnHprtfd hima^lf in fh^^ 

;ror. Both princes were imprisoned. Moritz received 



the electoral title and half his cousin's territories. Politically 
Protestantism was crushed. Only a few northern cities, of 
which Madgeburg was the chief, and a few minor northern 
princes still offered resistance. 

Yet, curiously enough, the Emperor who had just crushed 
Protestantism politically had never been on worse terms with 
the Pope. Paul III had aided him early in the war, but had 
drawn back fearing that the successful Emperor might grow too 
powerful. Charles wished the Council of Trent to move slowly 
till he had the Protestants ready to recognize it. He would 
have it make such minor concessions as might then seem to 
allay Protestant prejudice. The Pope wished the council 
to define Catholic faith quickly and go home. It had already, 
by April, 1546, made agreement difficult by defining tradition 
to be a source of authority in matters of faith.^ To minimize 
imperial influence the Pope declared the council adjourned to 
Bologna in March, 1547. This transfer the Emperor refused 
to recognize and declined to be bound by the Tridentine de- 
cisions already framed. Some method of n*fliigiftttg ftgn^"**^"^ 
jQUSt be reached un derwhmn (Tfirypa-ny /v^nM liV^ t\\\ |hA fiflRl- 
ing of the schism whic h Charles ex pytftd f^jn |;||f| p^imml 

?E*e cup"to the laity, permitting clerical ^"TTJftfffi IB^ ^JT^'fafi 
slightly the powers of tlie^Pgpg^^ The Catholic princes refused 
to accept it as applymg to them. The Pope denounced it. 
Charles had to abandon hope of making it a temporary reunion 
programme, but secured its adoption on June 30, 1548, by the 
Reichstag in Augsburg as applying to the ex-Protestants. XtUft- 
A uasbura Irderim 1^^ no^ pm^pf^HpH to enforce with a hea vy 
TiaM^ Morltz of Saxony had done such s ervice to the imperial 
cause that a modiScatidn/MiowS'Vs "the i ^P2Mi ^lyUfLm. wa s 
allowe4„ift luajABJi^* It asserted justification by faith alone, 
but re-established much of Roman usage and government. To 
it Melanchthon reluctantly consented, regarding its Roman 
parts as '^adiaphora,'' or non-essential.matter. For this weak- 
ness he was bitterly denounced by the defiant Lutherans of 
unconquered Magdeburg, notably by Matthias Flacius Illy- 
ricus (1520-1575) and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565). 
FladuSj especially, did much to maintain popular Lutheranism 

1 Kidd, pp. 355, 356. 


in this dark time; but the bitter quarrels among Lutheran 
theologians had begun. 

Yet, superficially, it seemed as if Charles was nearing his goal. 
Pope Paul III died in IFAQ^ and was succeeded hv Juliets TTT 

' bbb h who pmvpH mnrP trRPtRh1#> fn ^^^ Fmppmr 

rne new PonP anmmnnpH tliA f;^Tjmg| to m^t onrft n^nrp ip 


inl552» Really, Oermany was profoundly disaffected, flie • 
Protestants groaning under the imperial yoke, and the Catholic 
princes jealous of Charles's increased power and of his appar- 
ently successful attempt to secure the imperial succession ulti- 
mately for his son, later to be famous as Philip II of Spain. 
Moritz of Saxony was dissatisfied that his father-in-law, Philip 
of Hesse, was still imprisoned; he felt, moreover, that he 
had secured all he could hope for from the Emperor, that his 
subjects were Lutheran, and that only as a Lutheran leader 
against the Emperor, could his boundless ambition be further 

JJ^e y^Vrr^jV" ^^ ^^fiart Maed^'^ur Kt "^ the jiamei of Jthe . 
Emperor, gave Moritz ^xfUiyiior. raising m^M^^jT Agreements 
were made with the Lutheran princes of norfliern Germany. 
The aid of King Henry II of France (1547-1669) was secured at 
the price of the surrender to France of the German border cities 
of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. Charles knew the plot, but took 
no adequate steps to meet it. The blow came swiftly. Henry 
invaded Lorraine and took the coveted cities. Moritz marched 
rapidly southward, almost capturing the Emperor, who es- 
caped by flight from Innsbruck. Tlie whole structure that 
Charles had so laboriously built up toppled like a card house, 
not so much before the power of Lutheranism as before the terri- It j 
torial independence of the princes. Qp ^i ^ g ys^ t g^ 1552,, thj n^ 

Bv the Treaty of Paaaan the settlpment of the^relifirjous aues- 

fiAVwfla ^(^^ tllJ-^^l "ifL^tt Rfii^^^^fg TH^ br^ ; was .oot 

aBIe 155 meet tilrthree y ears later. P rincely rivalries distracted 
G^ruumy. Montz lost his life in warfare agamst the lawless 
Margrave Albrecht of Brandenburg in 1553. Charles, con- 
scientiously unwilling to tolerate Protestantism, but seeing 
such toleration mevitable, handed over full authority to treat 
to his brother Ferdinand, though the latter was not to be chosen 
Emperor till 1558. The Reichstag met in Augsburg. The 



Lutherans demanded full rights, and pos^ssion of aD ecclesi- 
astical property, heretofore or hereafter secularized. They 
asked toleration for Lutherans in all Catholic territories, but 
proposed to grant none to Catholics in their own. These 
extreme demands were naturally resisted, and the result was 
a compromise ^ the Peace of Augsburg, of September, 

Jf By its prov isions equal rignts m tne empu^ were extended to 
I CfltflOllCS &nd'XutEeraas-rjiQ-J)the r Evj 
nized. .bacE lay prince should determme which of the two 

tohs shou ld be professe(l^^i^_ ^ft i3 territory — noch oioe was 
jjlowed his suBjecfs— and but one jftro jshorTIifiliF™ ^" 
a given territory. This was th^ principle u^uapv defined as 
* "^ * ' religio. Regarding eccles iastical 

cvjus reg^io, ejus reiigw. negaramg eccles iastical temto nes 
and pro pertie s, agree ment was readhied that the time ot 'the 
Trea ty o t l^assau^ TioiJri>'e "IRe ho nn? '^ n y)yi m l^iitner fflT 
•\.gossession. should so remain, but a Cat holic spirit u al ruler 
"^ turning Protestant thereafter shouId'^foHeit hii ^^ ^S^ro and 
Holdings, thus insuring to the CathoCcs f^nntimipH ijQgg^siniT 
of the spiritual territories not lost hy Vy?i '^\i VftS 
**' ecclesiastical reservation^^ To the common man, di^tis- 
fied with the faith of the territory where he lived, full right of 
unhindered emigration and a fair sale of his goods was allowed 
— ^a great advance over punishment for heresy, but his choice 
was only between Catholicism and Lutheranism. 

(So Lutheranism acquired full legal establishment. Ger- 
many was permanently divided. Luther's dream of a puri- 
fication of the whole German church had vanished, but so had 
the Catholic conception of visible unity. 

The older leaders were rapidly passing. Luther had died 
nine years before. Melanchthon was to live till 1560. Charies 
V was to resign his possession of the Netherlands in 1555, and 
of Spain a year later, and seek retirement at Yuste in Spain till 
deatii came to him in 1558. 


I Denmark, Norway, and Sweden had been nominally united 
\ under one sovereign since the union of Kalmar, in 1397. Since 
\ 1460, Schleswig-Holstein had also been under Danish control. 
I In none of these lands was the crown powerful. In aU, the great 

* 1 Kidd, pp. 363, 364. 


ecclesiastics were unpopular as oppressive, and often foreign- 
bom, and in all they were in rivalry with the nobility. In no 
portion of Europe, not even in England, was the R^ormation 
to be more thoroughly political. At the dawn of the Reforma-i 
tion the Danish ^rone was occupied by Christian II (1513-/ V 
1523), an enlightened despot of Renaissance sympathies. Hf 
saw the chief evil of his kingdom in the power of the nobles ana 
ecclesiastics, and to limit that of the bishops by introducing 
the Lutheran movement he secured a Lutheran preacher in 
the person of Martin Reinhard, in 1520, and an adviser in J 
Karlstadt for a brief time in 1521. Partially at least through 
the latter's counsels, a law of 1521 forbad appeals to Rome, 
reformed the monasteries, limited the authority of the bishops, 
and permitted priestly marriage. Opposition prevented its 
execution, and the hostility of the privileged classes, which 
Christian II had roused in many ways, drove him from his 
throne in 1523, and made his imcle, Frederick I (1523-1533), 
King in his stead. 

Though inclined to Lutheranism, Frederick was forced by 
the parties which had put him on the throne to promise to 
respect the privileges of the nobles and prevent any heretical 
preaching. Yet Lutheranism penetrated the land. In Hans 
Tausen (1494-1561), a one-time monk and former Wittenberg 
student, it found a preacher of popular power from 1524 on- 
ward. The year before, a Danish translation of the New Testa- 
ment had been published. By 1526, King Frederick took Tau- 
sen under protection as his chaplain. The same year the King 
took the confirmation of the appointment of bishops into his 
own hands. A law of 1527 enacted this into statute, granted 
toleration to Lutherans, and permitted priestly marriage.^ 
These changes were aided by the support of a large section of 
the nobility won by the King's countenance of their attacks 
on ecclesiastical rights and property. In 1530, the same year 
as the Aug9burg Confession, Tausen and his associates laid 
before the Danish Parliament the "Forty-three C!openhagen 
Articles." No decision was reached at the time, but Lutheran- 
ism made increasing progress till Frederick's demise in 1533. 

The death of Frederick left all in confusion. Of his two sons, 
most of the nobles favored the elder, Christian III (1536-1559), 
a determined Lutheran, while the bishops supported the 

^ Eidd, p. 234. 


younger, Johann. A distracting period of civil conflict followed, 
from which Christian III emerged the victor in 1536. The 
bishops were imprisoned, their authority abolished, and church 
property confiscated for the crown.^ Christian now called on 
Wittenberg for aid. Johann Bugenhagen, Luther's associate, 
came in 1537, and seven new Lutheran superintendents, named 
by the King, but retaining the title ''bishop," were ordained 
by the German reformer, who was himself a presbyter. The 
Danish church was now reorganized in fully Lutheran fashion.' 

Norway was a separate kingdom, but by election under the 
Danish King. The Reformation scarcely touched the land 
during the reign of Frederick I. In the struggles that followed 
Archbishop Olaf Engelbrektsson of Trondhjem, the head of 
the Norwegian clergy, led a temporizing party and fled the land 
on Christian Ill's success. Norway was made a Danish 
province, and the new Danish Lutheran religious constitution 
was nominally introduced. Effective preaching and superin- 
tendence in Norway was, however, largely n^lected by Chris- 
tian III with the result that the Reformation, imposed from 
above, was long in taking effective possession of popular sym- 

Much the same story may be told of the faraway Danish 
possession, Iceland. The Redformation travelled slowly thither. 
Bishop Gisser Einarsen of Skalholt, educated in Germany 
and of Lutheran sympathies, began a conservative Lutheran 
reformation in 1540, and the same year an Icelandic New Testar 
ment was published. In 1548 a strong Catholic reaction, led 
by Bishop Jon Aresen of Holum, attempted to throw off the 
Danish yoke. By 1554 the rebellion was suppressed and 
Lutheranism forcibly established, though long with little popu- 
lar approval. 

The rcformation of Sweden was largely bound up with a 
national struggle for mdependence. Christian II of Denmark 
found bitter resistance to his efforts to securc the Swedish 
throne. His chief supporter was Gustaf Trolle, archbishop of 
Upsala. Gustaf procured from Pope Leo X approval of the 
excommunication of his opponents, though that opposition was 
piuely political. In 1520 Christian II captured Stockholm and 
followed his coronation as King of Sweden by a deed of the 
utmost cruelty. He had the unsuspecting nobles, gathered 

1 Eidd pp. 322-328. i Ihid., pp. 328^336. 


for the ceremony^ executed, nominally as excommunicated 
heretics. The Stockholm Bath of Blood roused Sweden to a 
rebellion against Christian II; which soon foimd an energetic 
leader in Gustaf Vasa. The Danes were expelled and, in 
1623, Gustaf was chosen King (1523-1560). 

Meanwhile Lutheran doctrine was being taught by two 
brothers, who had returned in 1519 from studies in Wittenberg 
— Olaf (1497-1552) and Lars Petersson (1499-1573), who lar 
bored in Strengnas, and soon won the archdeacon, Lars Anders- 
son (1482-1552). By 1524 King Gustaf was definitely favor- 
ing these leaders. Andersson became his chancellor, and Lars 
Petersson professor of theology in Upsala. On December 27, 
1524, a discussion in Upsala between Olaf Petersson, now 
pieacher in Stockholm, and the Roman champion, Peter Galle, 
seemed a victory for the reformers.^ Part of the support of 
the King was probably due to religious conviction, but no small 
portion was owing to the dire poverty of the crown, which 
Gustaf thought could be remedied only by extensive confisca- 
tion of church property. In Jime, 1527, the King struck the 
blow. At the Diet of Westeras Gustaf demanded and ob- 
tained by threat of resignation, the assignment to the crown of 
all episcopal or monastic property which the King should deem 
not needed for proper religious work, the siurender to the 
heirs of the original owners of all lands exempt from taxes 
acquired by the church since 1454, and "pure" preaching of 
'* God's Word.'' Provision was made for the reconstitution of 
the chiu'ch imder royal authority.* Though master of the 
Swedish church, and now possessor of a large part of its prop- 
erty, Gustaf used his power in religion conservatively. Most 
of the old prelates left the land. The bishop's office was re- 
tained, though its holders were now appointed by the King. 
New bishops were consecrated, with the old rites, in 1528, at 
the hands of Bishop Peter Magni, of Westeras, who had re- 
ceived his office in Catholic days, and through whom apostoli- 
cal succession was believed to be transmitted to the Swedish 
Lutheran episcopate. Further reform measures were taken by 
the synod of Orebro in 1529.' A Swedish service was issued 
in 1529, and the '"Swedish Mass" in 1531. In the year last 
named Lars Petersson was made archbishop of Upsala, though 
without jurisdiction over his fellow bishops — ^that remained in 

1 Kidd, pp. 155-164. « Ibid., pp. 234-236. f Ibid. , pp. 236-239. 

^ - ' ^ * 


the hands of the King. Most of the lower clergy accepted the 
Reformation and kept their places, but such changes by royal 
powev were far from winning immediate popular approval, and 
it was long before Sweden became thoroughly Evangelical. 
Its type of Lutheranism in doctrine and practice was strongly 
conservative. The reform of Sweden carried with it that of 
Finland, then part of the Swedish monarchy. The Swedish 
church was to pass through a period of Romanizing reaction, 
^especially under the reign of GustaPs son, Johan III (1569- 
1592); but it was ended in 1593, when the synod of Upsala 
fonnally adopted the Augsburg Confession as the creed of 



Zurich was the strongest power in northern Switzerland, 
Bern in the south. The latter was in constant rivalry with 
the dukes of Savoy, especially for possession of French-speak- 
ing territories in tjie neighborhood of Lake Geneva. The ac- 
ceptance of Evangelical views by Bern on February 7, 1528 
(ante, p. 363), led the Bernese government to further the in- 
troduction of the Reformation into these dependent districts 
by encouraging the preaching of Guillaume Fare! (1489-1565). 
Farel was a native of Gap, in the French province of Dauphin€. 
As a student in Paris he came under the influence of the hu- 
manistic reformer, Jacques Le F^vre, of Etaples, and by 1521 
was preaching imder the auspices of the moderately reformatory 
Guillaume Bri^onnet, bishop of Meaux. An orator of fiery ve- 
hemence, intense feeling, and stentorian voice, he soon was so 
preaching the Reformation that he had to leave France. By 
1524 he was urging reform in Basel, but his impetuosity led 
to his expulsion. 

The next months were a period of wandering, during which 
Farel visited Strassburg and won Butzer's friendship; but, in 
November, 1526, his work in French-speaking Switzerland 
began in Aigle, where the Bernese government defended him, 
though not yet itself fully committed to the Reformation.^ 
With the complete victory of the newer views in Bern, Fard's 
work went faster. In 1528 Aigle, Ollon, and Bex adopted the 

» Kidd, pp. 477-481. 


Refonnation, destroying images and ending the mass.^ After 
vainly attempting to invade Lausanne, he began a stormy 
attack in Neuchfitel, in November, 1529, which ultimately 
secured the victory of the Reformation there.' Morat fol- 
lowed in 1530;' . but in Grandson and Orbe, which, like Morat, 
were under the joint overlordship of Protestant Bern and 
Catholic Freiburg, he could secure only the toleration of both 
forms of worship.^ A visit by invitation in September, 1532, 
to a £fynod of the Waldenses in the high valleys of the Cottian* 
Alps resulted in the acceptance of the Reformation by a large 
section of the body,^ and was followed in October by an 
attempt, at first unsuccessful, to preach reform in Geneva.^ 
Everywhere Farel faced opposition with imdaunted courage, 
sometimes at the risk of life and at the cost of bodily injury, 
but no one could be indifferent in his strenuouis presence. 

Geneva, at Farel's coming, was in the struggle of a revolu- 
tionary crisis. Situated on a main trade route across the 
Alps, it was an energetic business community, keenly alive to 
its interests and liberties, of rather easy-going moral standards, 
in spite of its extensive monasteries and ecclesiastical founda- 
tions. Genevan liberties were being maintained with great 
difficulty against the encroachments of the powerful duke of 
Savoy. At the beginning of the sixteenth century three powers 
shared the government of the city and its adjacent villages — 
the bishop; his nGedorninus, or temporal administrator; and the 
citizens, who met annually in a General Assembly and chose 
four '^ syndics'' and a treasurer. Besides the General Assem- 
bly, the citizens were ruled by a Little Council of twenty-five, 
of which the '' syndics'' of the year and of the year previous 
were members. Questions of hurger policy were discussed by 
a Council of Sixty appointed by the Little Council, and in 
1527 a Coimcil of Two Hundred was added, its membership 
including the little Council and one hundred and seventy-five 
others dbosen by that inner body. The aggressive dukes of 
Savoy had appointed the ticedominiia since 1290, and had con- 
trolled the bishopric since 1444. The struggle was therefore 
one for freedom by the citizens against Savoyard interests, rep- 
resented by the bishop and the mcedomitvua. 

In 1519 the Genevan citizens made a protective alliance with 

> Kidd, pp. 481, 482. * Ibid,, pp. 483-489. * Ihid., p. 489. 

« Ibid., pp. 489-491. • Ibid., pp. 491, 492. • Ibid., pp. 492-494. 


Freiburg^ but Duke Charles III of Savoy won the upper hand, 
and the Genevan patriot Philibert Berthelier was beheaded. 
Seven years later Geneva renewed the effort, this time enter- 
ing into alliance with Bern as well as Freiburg. In 1527 the 
bishop, Pierre de la Baume, left the city, whidh he could not 
control, and fully attached himself to the Savoyard interests. 
The authority of the vicedominua was repudiated. Duke 
Charles attacked the plucky city, but Bern and Freiburg came 
to its aid m October, 1530, and he had to pledge respect to 
Genevan liberties.^ Thus far there was little sympathy with 
the Reformation in Geneva, but Bern was Protestant and was 
anxious to see the Evangeliod faith there established. Placards 
criticising papal claims and presenting Deformed doctrine were 
posted on June 9, 1532, but Geneva's ally, Freiburg, was Cath^ 
olic, and the Genevan government disowned any leanings 
toward Lutheranism.* In October following Farel came, as 
has been seen, but could get no footing in the dty. Farel 
sent his friend. Antoine Froment (1508-1581) to Geneva, who 
found a place therQ as a schoolmaster, and propagated ref onned 
doctrine imder this protection. On January 1, 1533, Froment 
was onboldened to preach publicly, though the result was a 
riot. By the following Easter there were enough Protestants 
to dare to observe the Lord's Supper, and in December Farel 
effectively returned. The Grenevan government was in a diffi- 
cult position. Its Catholic ally, Freiburg, demanded that 
Farel be silenced. Its Protestant ally, Bern, insisted on the 
arrest of Guy Fiu'bity, the chief defender of the Roman cause.' 
Farel and his friends held a public di^utation, and on March 1, 
1534, seized a church. Under Bernese pressure the govern- 
ment broke the league with Catholic Freiburg. The bishop 
now raised troops to attack the city. His adion greatiy 
strengthened Genevan opposition, and on October 1, 1534, the 
Littie Council declared the bishopric vacant, though Geneva 
was still far from predominantiy Protestant.* 

With the following year Farel, emboldened by the successful 
result of a public debate in May and June, proceeded to yet 
more positive action. On July 23, 1535, he seized the church 
of La Madeleine, and on August 8 the cathedral of St. Pierre 
itself. An iconoclastic riot swept the churches. Two days 

1 Kidd, pp. 494-500. i Ibid,, pp. 500-504. 

» Ibid., pp. 604-508. « Jbid., pp. 508-512. 


later the mass was abolished, and speedily thereafter the monks 
and nuns were driven from the city. On May 21, 1536, the 
work was completed by the vote of the General Assembly, ex- 
pressing its determination 'Ho live in this holy Evangelical 
law and word of God/' ^ MeanwhUe the duke of Savoy had 
been pressing Geneva sorely, but Bern came at last powerfully 
to its aid in January, 1536. Greneva saw the peril from Savoy 
removed, only to have danger arise of falling under Bernese 
control. Yet the courage of its citizens was equal to the situ- 
ation, and on August 7, 1536, Bern acknowledged Genevan 
independence.^ The courageous cily was now free, and had 
accepted Protestantism, more for political than for religious 
reasons. Its religious institutions had all to be formed anew. 
Farel felt himself unequal to the task, and in July, 1536, he 
constrained a young French acquaintance passing through the 
city to stay and aid in the work. The friend was John 


John Calvin was bom in Noyon, a city of Picardy, about 
fifty-eight miles northeast of Paris, on July 10, 1509. His 
father, Gr£rard Cauvin, was a self-made man, who had risen to 
the posts of secretary of the Noyon bishopric and attorney for 
its cathedral chapter, and possessed the friendship of the pow- 
erful noble family of Hangest, which gave two bishops to 
Noyon in his lifetime. With the younger members of this 
family John Calvin was intimately acquainted, and this friend- 
ship earned for him a familiarity with the ways of polite society 
sudi as few of the reformers enjoyed. Through the father's 
influence the son received the income from certain ecclesiastical 
posts in and near Noyon, the earliest being assigned him before 
the age of twelve. He was never ordained. Thus provided 
with means, Calvin entered the University of Paris in August, 
1523, enjoying the remarkable instruction in Latin given byl 
Mathurin Cordier (1479-1564), to whom he owed the founda-i* 
tion of a style of great brilliancy. Continuing his course with 
special emphasis, as was then the custom, on philosophy and 
dialectics, Calvin completed his undergraduate studies early in 
1528. As a student he formed a number of warm friendships, 

> Eidd, pp. 512-610. * Ibid., pp. 519^21. • Ibid., p. 544. 





OOtebly Wit >i fh^ family of OiiillRiifn^ Tnp flip 

and an eager supporter of b "TTift.j^]ffm. 

uaivin's latti^ nad designed him for theology, but by 1527 
Gerard Cauvm was in quarrel with the Noyon cathedral chap- 
ter and determined that his son should study law. For that 
discipline Calvin now went to the University of Orleans, where 
JRerre de ITEstoile (1 480-1537) enjoyed great fame as a jurist, 
and in 1529 to the University of Bourges, to listen to Andrea 
Al cjati ri49^~155Q). Humanistic interests, also, strongly at- 
tracted him, and he began Greek in Bourges with the aid of a 
German teacher, Melchior Wolmar (1496-1561). He gradu- 
ated in law; but the death of his father, in 1531, left Calvin 
his own master, and he now took up the study of Greek and 
Hebrew in the humanist College de France, whidi IQng 
Francis I had foimded in Paris in 1530. He was hard at work 
on his first book — ^s Ccmmerdarti on ^fnnna^f Trpjtti^ |m 
Cfemerkry— yhifih W/y DubliaJied in Aprfl. 1^2. It wsk^ a m^^l^. 
veT'oT erudition, and ma rked n o less by ^ pr^fftlind ''^^"'^ ^^ 
naoraf values;,, but in .itlCalvin diapUved no interest in the 
religious questions of the age. ..JHe was still simply an eam^t, 
deeply learned humanist. 

Yet it was not for want of opportunity to know the new doc- 
trines that Calvin was still imtouched by the struggle. Hu- 
manism had done its preparatory work in France as dsewhere. 

Jf^ mnflf nongpimipiij^ rApiygApfAf lyfi \f^A K eCU JaCQUeS Lc FfevTe 
of EtftBl§aJ1455 ?-1536)j^ who made his homft m i^fj mrmAsi 

'6rSt.-Grermain desT^res m Paxia, from 1507, for some years, 
'and gathered'TcboutliifSra notable group of disciples. LeFfrvre 
never bro ke or wished to break wit h the Roman Churcii, ou t 

inri512 ^V_r"-b^''^'^ q" V»;^^mi^T;il>ry /^n P^iiPfi f>pigfl^ xghlr*^ 

(^enled the justif ying merit of good works , declared salvation 
tj|ie7fee gifl of God^ andlield to IHe sole a'littic""^ ^^— J-^ 
It was the study of a quiet scholar and aroused no sensation at 
the time. Eleven years later, in 1523« h^ put forth a tranala- 

tion of the New Te^ta^eut, Amnnp^ liis pnpj^fl y^f^ (^^lillRnmP 

Bri90nnet nii7f)-1.g^.^), fr^m Ifilfihiahnp ;^f jyTpj^^iy; fi^nlliuyiyiP 

^a51[I46t-1540)x to wlinflP ppr<nm.qinna ^% ^|AK]ifthmf>f^t nf 

the College de jPVance ^y TftYftl ftiV^^^n^y Wflfl due; ^^^"y^^ 
Vatable (?-1547), Calvin's teacher of Hebrew on that founda- 
tion; G&ard Roussel (1500?-1550), Calvin's friend, later 
bishop of Oloron; Louis de Berquin (1490-1529), to die at the 


stake for his Protestantism; and Guillaume Farel, whose fiery 
reformatory career has ahready been noted. With these men 
of reformatory impulse^ none of whom, save the two last men- 
tioned, broke with the Roman Church, many humanists sym- 
pathizedy such as the family of Cop, whose friendship Calvin 
enjoyed in Paris. They had powerful support in King Fran- 
cis's gifted and popular dbter, Marguerite d'Angoulfime (1492- 
1549), from 1527 Queen of Navarre, who was ultimately an 
unavowed Protestant. Luther's books early penetrated into 
France and were read in this circle. Few of its members real- 
ized, however, the gravity of the situation or were ready to 
pay the full price of reform; but there was no ignorance of 
what the main questions were in the scholarly circle in which 
Calvin moved. They had not as yet become important for 

Between the publication of his Commeniary on Seneca's j 
Treatise on Clemency in tii e sprmg of 1532 and the autumn, of f 
1533 Calvin experienced It *^su3aenc6nversion.^^'" Of its cir- \ 
cumstances nothmg is ceruittly BBOWIl. ML Itlf central experi - \ 
ence was that God spoke to him through the Scriptitfes Md 
ligj!l.^'ll Tn"*^ ^^ ^^yMi Religion had hencelorth^e^rst 
place in his thoughts. How far he even yet thought of break- 
ing with the Roman Church is doubtful. He was still a mem- 
ber of the humanistic circle in Paris, of which Roussd and his 
intimate friend Nicolas Cop were leaders.^ On November 1, 
im.? Pnp Hpliyftrftrl an maugural address as ne^lU ^tolMl iw- 
fi}j nf thft TTnivPiH^^'^ €^l Pftr^'fl, ^ FhJch h(^ plfy^fiA for reform, >/ 

Calvin wrote the oration as has often been allied, is improba- ] 
ble, but he undoubtedly sympathized with its sentiments. Xh^ 
f^p^imotiim *'^"q^ ^^« prPAf^ and TTing Ffft^d^ enjoined, ac- 
tion aga in st the ^^ Lutherans.^^ * Cop and Calvin had to seek 

SflT^^yj ^hioh Cftlvin found in llTift"TTomf>7T[ft'fnftnd/XQUM du 
jri1]pt^ in Anjpiiil^ipft. Calvin's S^naP nf tliP nprpsaify nf flPpii^ %/ 

rajjon^frpm jhfLjEtldfir fflmmiMlktn^J^aajnpw rgfyidl^ d^vdoQing, 
i^pd fnrr^' \[]jr\ it\ gn tn Nnynn to resign his benefices on Mfi^y 
4 j 1534. H ere he was for a brief time imprisoned. Though 
soon released, France was too perilous for him, especiaUy after 
Anto ine Marcourt posted his injudicious theses against the 

> Kidd, pp. 523, 524. * Drid,, pp. 524, 525. 

* lhid,y .pp. 525, 526. . « Ibid., pp. 526-528. 



mass in October, 1534,^ and by about New Year's foDowmg 
Calvin was safely in Protestant Basel. 

Marcourt's placards had been followed by a sharp renewal 
of persecution, one of the victims being Calvin's friend the 
Parisian merchant, Estienne de la Forge. Francis I was co- 
quetting for the aid of German Protestants against Charles V, 
and therefore, to justify French persecutions, issued a public 
letter in February, 1535, charging French Protestantism with 
anarchistic aims such as no government could bear. Calvin 
felt that he must defend his slandered fellow believes. He 
therefore rapidly completed a work begun in AngoulSme, and 


^""'^^32!^^!^— C^i^-^ :? "" " pfA- f^miH-Aniia and digm- 
fied, it is a tremendously forceful presentation of the Protestant 
position and defense of its holders against the royal slanders. 
No French Protestant had yet spoken with such clearness, re- 
straint, and power, and witii it its author of twenty-six years 
stepped at once into the leader^ip of French Protestantism.^ 
The Institutes themselves, to which this letter was prefixed, 
were, as published in 1536, far from the extensive treatise into 
which they were to grow ^"_^fliW^'"^^ ^Mftl ^'ti yn of l.'igQ: but 
they were already the most orderly and systematic popular 
presentation of doctrine and of the Christian life that the Ref- 
ormation produced. Calvin's mind was formulative rath^ 
than creative. Without Luther's antecedent labors his work 
could not have been done. It is Luther's conce 

tion by fai th, an d. , of t h e s a rrampnt s^aissalalfl 

that he presents. ^}^^ ^*> A^^xr^ if/xtn ttiif.»^r^ TlfttflhlY ^''' 

qnphasis on thSLgloiy.of God i>A fhstt fnr wTii<>|^ ^Jl |l^|l^fa t^rt* 

cTj^ligdj on election as a dnptn^^, of (^^lipati an oonfide "<^f| p^"H 
on the conse^uencesTor ejection as ja, "^^V^Uff f^ jfift^^'' ^^ 
jpire of conffirauiyJa tTie wHToF finH Rut all is systematized 
and clarified with a skill that was Calvin's own. 
.-/ Man's highest knowledge, Calvin tii.iiprht^ i« tW of CrnA anrl 
of himself. Enough comes by nature to leave man without 
excuse, but adequate knowledge is given only in the Scriptures, 
which the witness of the Spirit in the heart of the believing 
reader attests as the very voice of. God. These Scriptures 
teach that God is good, and the source of all goodness eveiy- 

i Kidd, pp. 528-532. 

> Ibid., pp. 532, 533. 


where. Obedience to God's will is man's primal duty. As 

r? wor^ r>f inot.>Q ^fly^ hfliYfi ATiy mmt; and fiV n^p °^ ^" i 

_gt^fi ftf miP ^*>i^»^'^ff ^r^y ^fi^'nntinn From tliis helpless 
and hopeless condition some men are mideservedly rescued 
through the work of Christ. He paid the penalty due for the 
sins of those in whose behalf He died ; ypt^ thft n<f er ftpd rece 

S' on of this ransom was a free act nn Gnr^'g vwrtft flQ thftt jt^ 
cause la God a Jovft. 

All that Christ has wrought is without avail imless it becomes 
a man's personal possession. This possession is effected by 
the Holy Spirit, who works when, how, and where He will, 
creating repentance; a^H f^fh xKrhlnh no ^>j\fh T.iif|i#>r^ la a vifnl 

i^nioij be tween the believer a nr^ C hp st Thi*f "^^ ^'^'^ nf_f?iitl? 

gfe^ilk^a^ mte rigbt;wuyaafiaaL^TM..l^ 

now dofrfl :ffiadiaLj3ia§in|Lto. God is the.pmaf iJxatiie 

Ss entersijnto^yital .liBJonjyith Christ^' Wj arp illflt.ifi,fid 
not wi tliniit nnr^ y^t ^nt ^7 w/M'l^q^^ Calviu thus left room for 
a conception of "works" as strenuous as any claimed by the 
Roman Church, though very different in relation to the accom- 
plishment of salvation. 'Pie ^tandard set b efore the Chris ^ 
tian is t h e law of God, as contained in tEe^^cnptures, not as 
a test o f bis salvation but as an expression of that will of Gfod 
" wSJch as an already saved man'He'wiir'strive to fulfil^ This 
emphasis on the law as ffiFguide ofTIfrisGanTife^was peculiarly 
Calvin's own. It has made Calvinism always insistent on char- 
acter, though in Calvin's conception man is saved to character 
rather than by character. A prime nourishment of the Chris- 
tian life is by prayer. 

Since all good is of Grod, and man is "n^hlf f^ '"'%t^r ftf Tfi* 
sTst .bia, mnvf^r.siniCfflfQTro^^ ^that t|ie rea3oa some are saved 
and others are lost is the divme chQicQrzdectioiLand reproha- 
ti on. Po r a reason for that choice bej^^.nd the will of God it i? 
absurd to inqulre!*sihce Tjo3'^s will is an ultimate fact. Yet to 
Ualvin election "was always primarily a doctrine of Christian 
comfort. That God had a plan of salvation for a man, indi- 
vidually, was an unshakable rock of confidence, not only for 
one convinced of his own unworthiness, but for one surrounded 
by opposing forces even if they were those of priests and Kings. 


It made a man a fellow laborer with God in the accomplishmoit 
of God's will. 



ivil government . In the last analysis the church consists of 
/'all the elect of God"; but it also properly denotes "the whole 
body of mankind . . . who profess to worship one God and 
Christ." Yet there is no true church "where lying and false- 
hood have usurped the ascendancy/' The 
shows fl^a chl?^h offi^rs^jastors, teachers^j elaers^ and deacon s, 
"yho enter on their cha^^es ^itH the assent of the congr^atio n 
^fit they serve. Tixeir "call" i<^ fwnfnH.^ fJn^ TfgiTfff innhnA^ 
tion from...G^. and-tb^* " oppw>rotioi i*of ♦ 

" ^US gave to the COngreffation «. v^iioe in tJiP rhnine ofi^^ nffirftrs 

n ot accorded by any other Reformation party except that of 
^hejJLijygbaitfiaTa^.^ cireumstannea at Geneva were to com- 

pel him to regard that vpice there as e xpressed by ^b^ r^tv 
gQver mne y^j;^ S imilarly CaLvin Haimftd for __" " 

indepradent^ iurfsdiction in discipline .up.. ^ the point yf er- 
cb ^Qtuni cation. Further it could not go ; but it was a reten- 
^n of a freedom which all the other leaders of the Reformation 
had abandoned to state supervbion. Qivil govem mffllf }ff^^ 
hqsfiYfiL-ihft divinely, appoint;^ task of f estering the churc h, 
i;;;^2J^ '^ ^^^"^ ^'^^Ise. do<^t^"nfii frnt^ pil^^^hl"? ^^n^ ers for 
T^Eose ciTO^-s .^xcommunicatiQtt. fe. juoajifiiafint^ I* w*s essen- 
tudly the mediaeval theory of the relations of chiux^ and state. 
^Calvin recognized only two sacraments — b aptism and th e 
Lord's Supp er. Regarding the burning q uestion ot Chriat^s 
jpresence m ^the^upper. Tie stood, like Bt rczer. pare wav K^ 
tweenXuther and Zwingli, nearer the Swif« r^Jnrmt^r jjn f^>im, 
and to the German in spiri^. With Zwingli he denied any 
physical presence of Christ ; yet he asserts in the clearest terms 

a regit J tbniigl^ jypjritiinl prf>spnPi> tpppivptI by fiiitl^. ^^Thrigt- 

' but of the substance of His flesh, breathes life into our souls, 
nay, diffuses His own life into us, though the real flesh of Christ 
does not enter us." ^ 

On the publication of the Institutes in the spring of 1536, 
Calvin made a brief visit to the court of Ferrara, in Italy, 
doubtless intending to advance the Evangelical cause with his 
liberal-minded and hospitable fellow countrywoman, th e Duch- 

^ The quotations in these paragraphs are from the edition of 1559. 


fK« ttpy^fp. TTifl sfi^y was short, and a brief insit fa TlVaTinp 
[owed, to settle his business affairs and to proceed to Basel 
or Strassburg with his brother and sister. The perils of war . 
took him to Geneva in July, 1536, and there Farel's fiery ex- f 
hortation, as has been seen (arde, p. 389), induced him to remain. ' 

Calvin's work in Geneva began very modestly. He was a 
lecturer on the Bible, and was not appointed one of the preach- 
ers tiU a year later. Q^^^* yfl^ 'el. however, he exercised great 
influence. Their first joint work was to aid the Bernese min- 
isters and civil authorities in the effective establishment of 
the Reformation throughout Vaud and m Lausanne, which had 
just come under Bernese control.^ Jg Lausanne^ Pi^rrje .Ytfet 
(15U-157^JSRa&.J4)pQiiited pastor, an office which he was to 
hold till 155 9. _WiillJM]|»,C^via was to enjoy close friendship. 
OalvuL^flpH" Fa rel now under took to accompIistL three results 
m Geneva itself ~yn f^jj} ^. 1537r tKey laid before the .Little 

^^rtain^persons'' tojr.eacLquaJiitt the city, who> in CQUueo- [^ 
tion with the ministers, might report the unworthy to the churcn ' 
for discipline up to exconmiunication. This was Calvin's first 
attempt to m ake^GeaieYaLA^model commnnitY, anajGKewi^ to. 
assert the .indpppjulf.nrft .of. its own sigibese. A 
"second effort was the adoption of a catechism composed by 
Calvin, and a third the imposition on each citizen of a creed, 
probably written by FareL' These reconunendations the 
Little Council adopted with considerable modification. 

The suc cess of Calvin's work was soon threatened. He and 
Farel were, iihjustly charged with Arlanism by Pierre Caroli, 
^TEenjit Lausanne. They vindicated theu* orthodoxy easily, 
Fut not till great publicity had been given to the matter.^ In 
"Geneva itself the new discipline and the demand for individual 
assent to the new creed soon aroused bitter opposition. This 
was strong enough to secure a vote of the Coimcil of Two Hun- 
dred, in January, 1538, that the Supper should be refused to 
no one, thus destroying Calvin's system of discipline.* The 
next month the opposition won the city election, and deter- 
mined to force the issue. The Bernese liturgy differed some- 

» Kidd, pp. 54S-658. « /Wd., pp. 560-667. » Ibid,, pp. 568-572. 
« Ibid,, pp. 573-576. » Ibid., p. 677. 


what from that now established in Geneva. Bern had long 
wished it adopted in Geneva, and the opposition now secured 
a vote that it be used. Calvin and Farel regarded the differ- 
ences in Bernese and Genevan usage as of d^ht importance, 
but an imposition by civil authority, without consulting the 
ministers, they viewed as robbing the church of all freedom. 
Calvin and Farel refused compliance, and on ^ril 23, 1538, 
were banished.^ Their work in Geneva seemed to have ended 
in total failure. 

After a vain oH-^rnp^of j^jfltpiHi^S/^^ ^-/^ Gfi peva by the inter- 
vention ^^ -^^1^*' Pr^fAgf ^pf mitVi/^w^jpa^ yurpl f pund a pastorat e 

"ThTTeucTilLteljjHd^^ waa ^ ^ja hw fi' "^^ p^ ' 

jrm, at Butzer's invitation^ ^ rpfngp in Strafwhiirg TKa *h^ 
years there spmi were in many wi>yg tV>A ^ftpniMft 1 ^ Calvin^s 
life.' " There he was pastor of a church of French refugees an J 
Tecturer on tljeology. There he was honored by tLe citv ft"<^ 
made one of its representatives m ^i?fi''?f;?i V-a r6tJB|g| [i dAates 
between Protestants and Catholics .,,(flnie^ p -^"^fi), g^^^^ry^ 
tjierebythe frieildship of Melanchthon and other German 
formers. . There he married, in 1540, the wH^p. Yf^f) ^ ^ 8 t^ 

l&is faithful companion till her death in 1549. There he found 
time for writing, not merely an enlarged edition of the Instir 
tides, and his Commentary on Romans, the beginning of a series 
that put him in the front rank of ex^getes among the reformers, 
but his brilliant^ /{ei^/j^.jEa Saddeto^ ^hrh ^ff'' JWltly ri'fr'^H 
as the ablest of vindications of TS'r^f<>gfn,pf,i'«aT^ gfinerallYi* 

MeanwfijQb a political, revolution occur red in Greneva for 
which Calvin was in no way responsible. The party there 
which had secured Tiis banishment made a dis ft g^J y^s traatv 

l^Ilh'Benr m 1539. which resulted in its nvprfHrow thft nPTt 
year^an3rthe condemnation of the ni>yrntintnrg ^ p^rfnr^. 
The party friendly to Calvin was once more in power, and its 
leaders sought his return. He was with difficulty persuaded, 
but in 1541 was once more in Geneva, practically on his own 

Calvin promptly secured the adoption of his new ecclesias- 
tical constitution, the Ordonnances, now far more definite than 
the recommendations accepted in 1537. In spite of his success 
ful return, however, he could not have them quite all that he 

» Kidd, pp. 677-^580. « Ibid,, pp. 583-586. 

» Ibid., pp. 686-589. 


wished. The Ordonnance^ declare that Christ has instituted 
in His church the foiu* offices of pastqr. teaser, eldep, and 
deacon, and define the duties of eachT^ Pastors were to meet 
wSSSiy for public discussion, examination of ministerial can- 
didates, and exegesis, in what was popularly known as the > 
Congrigaiion. The teachei^'' was to ^ thfi h ^a^ yf the Geneva j/ 

school system, which CftlviP ^|P»^^^ ft^ a.n ps.qftntia] fartnr in/^J*'^"^ 

the relig ioii-^ ^^^tttng of the city. To the 3eacons were assigned* 
the care o^ the poor and the supervision of the hospital. The 
elders were the heart of Calvin's system. They were laymen, 
chosen by the Little Council, two from itself, four from the 
Sixty, and six from the Two Hundred, and imder the presi- 
dency of one of the syndics. They, together with the minis- 
ters, made up the Consistoirey meeting every Thursday, and 
charged with ecclesiastical discipline. To excomgiunicii^tisi^ 
Jbhey could go ; bejrond^^ that, if, the otferise Hemanded^ th^ 
' were tp'^r^eferjbfecase to the civil authorities. No right seemed >/ 

I to Calvin so vitaF to the indei)endence of the church as this of 

' excommumcation, and for none was he compelled so to struggle 

tflLits'fitiar establishmeht in 1555.^ 

Besid es this task, Calvin j)re]jare(i. a new and mucp.more ; 
effecfive^atecEi^,^ and introduced a liturgy, based on that / 

of Ms Fri^jii..co3BSgaiiQn jn^SiiagibwXjJ^^ ^ 

essentially a translation of that generally in use in that Genna n 

c ity. In formulating it for Genevan use Calvin made a good 
many modifications to meet Genevan customs or prejudices.* 
It combined a happy union of fixed and free prayer. Calvin 
had none of the hostility against fixed forms which his spirittud 
descendants in Great Britain and America afterward mani- 
fested. It also gave full place to singing. 

Under Ca l vin' s guidance, and he held no other office than that ^ 
of one of the ministers^ of the cItyAlPiucil jyas done, for educ^- v^ 
tlon.and far..improYfid tradp; hut. alLGfinfLvan life wy under the 
consta nt and minut e sup ervision of the Consisicnre. Calvin 
would make Geneva a model of a perfected Christian com- - 
mimity. Its strenuous Evangelicalism attracted refugees in 
large munbers, many of them men of position, learning, and 
wealth, principally from France, but also from Italy, the 
Netherlands, Scotland, and England. These soon became a 

» Kidd, pp. 689-603. « Ihid., p. 647. 

> Extracts, Kidd, pp. 604-615. * Kidd, pp. 615-62S. 


very important factor in Genevan life. Calvin himsdf, and all 
his associated ministers, were foreigners. Opposition to hb 
strenuous rule appeared practically from the first, but, by 1548, 
had grown very serious. It was made up of two elements, 
those to whom any discipline would have been irksome; and 
much more formidable, those of old Genevan families who felt 
that Calvin, his fellow ministers, and the refugees were for- 
eigners who were imposing a foreign yoke on a city of heroic 
traditions of indq)eiMlence. That there was a party of rdig- 
ious Ubertins in Geneva, is a baseless tradition. 

Calvin's severest struggle was from 1548 to 1555^ from the 
time that some of the older inhabitants b^an to fear that 
they would be swamped politically by the refugees, till the 
r^ugees, almost all of whom were eager supporters of Calvin, 
achieved what had been dreaded, and made Calvin's position 
unshakable. Constantly increasing in fame outside of Greneva, 
Calvin stood in inuninent peril, throughout thb period, of hav- 
ing his Grenevan work overthrown. 

The cases of conflict were many, but two stand out with 
special prominence. The first was that np.uaed jj^y J^pfime 
Herm6s_BolseCj .a foymer monk of l^ariq , ncm a Protytant 
physrclaiTin V^igy, near Gftnevft. Tn thft (\(fn^6aaiixm BoE^ 
barged "Calvin witK error in asserting pred^ti nat^ffl, Thitf 

was to 'attack the very fpiii)L3atiQB8,QL.i.;aian!!a aiithftrifr, 

^r)rjisj^Qle Tiold on Genftva was as an interoretftr of the SWitv 

toes. If he was not right in M Hp war tlinr^^|g|^^y Hig(|p>HifpH 

"Tlalvin toot Bolsec's charges before the city government in 
October, 1551. The result was Bolsec's trial. The opinions 
of other Swiss governments were asked, and it was evident 
that they attached no such weight to predestination as did Cal- 
vin. It was with difficulty that Calvin procured Bolsec's 
banishment, and the episode led him to a more strenuous in- 
sistence of the vital importfwice of jirftHftstmAtinn rs a C\\t\9^ 
jtian truth than even heretofore.^ As for "RnlgAo^ ^ yltimfi.tAly^ 
"returned to tlie.,Ilpman communion and iiv<>nppH hJTn"**^^ ^" 

CaTvifrs memonr by a grossly alaxidecoua JbiogSU^y* 
"^Calvin was thus holding his power with difficulty, when in 
February, 1553, the elections, which for some years had been 
fairly balanced, turned decidedly in favor of his opponents. 
His fall seemed inevitable, when he was re scued a nd put on_ 

» Kidd. pp. 641-645. 


by. t.hp^ajy.i;^aLkfig^ Mimiel 

,,^^ fonns the second of those ^^re m en- 

g" nftrt. »f.rYfitfllfl Wftt^JLJafflMBBL^^ .SSmeZaje. as 

in 1531 he published his De f^7?iif^^^-^ f^r^h^ Compelled 
to conceal his identity, he studied medicine under the name of 
VUleneuve, being the real discoverer of the pulmonary cir- 
culation of the blood. He settled in Vienne in IVance, where he 
developed a large practice. He waa w nrlcinjy fw^yetly on his 
Restityiior ^ TAr'^'^'^^'^^ wV^inh ho p»kKqVio#4 oj^rly in )^^^- 
^ ^'> t!li^^^'"g. ^^^ N^^ne doctrine of the Trinity, thp ^^^- 

Ead Begun an exasperating correspondence with Calvin, whose 
Institutes he contemptuously criticised. 

Servetus's identity and authorship were unmasked to the 
Roman ecclesiastical authorities in Lyons, by Calvin's friend, 
Guillaume Trie, who, a little later, supplied further proof 
obtained from Calvin himself. He was condenmed to be 
burned; though, before sentence, he had escaped from prison 
in Vienne. For reasons hard to understand he made his way 
to Geneva, and was there arrested in August, 1553. His con- 
demnation now became a test of strength between Calvin and 
the opposition, which did not dare come out openly in defense 
of so notorious a heretic, but made Calvin all the difficulties 
that it could. As for Servetus, he had much hope for a favor- 
able issue, and demanded that Calvin be exiled and Calvin's 
goods adjudged to hun. The frii^l ftnflH '" -^^^^tlHiVf^ roilr \ 
viction and ff?p.t|j hv fire on October 27. 155,^ Though a tear 
^oicesj)! jK2.test were raised, notably that of S6bastien QasteUlo 

(1^1^1563) nfjlafi^l) fipsft TTipn agirfJeiT witR^Melanphtlinn that 

it was '^uSly^doDLe.." However odious the trial and its tragic 
end may seem in retrospect, for Calvin it was a great victory. 
It freed the Swiss churches from any imputation of unortho- 
doxy on the doctrine of the Trinity, whfle Calvin's opponents 
had ruined themselves by making difficult the punishment of 
one whom the general sentiment of that age condenmed. 

Calvin's improved status was soon apparent. The elections 
of 1554 were decidedly in his favor, those of 1555 yet more so. 
In January. 155 5. he secured permaa ent rfy ny n i t J on of .the / 
right of the Consistoire to proceed to exconununication with- ▼ 


out governmental interference.^ The now largdy Calvinist 
government proceeded, the same year, to make its position 
secure by admitting a considerable number of the refugees to 
the franchise. A slijj:ht riot on the* f^**"ing ^^ ^ftY 1 ^- ^ ''^'^''^' 
ibegun by Calvin^s op)onents, was^ zed as the occasion of 
'exec uting andlSanishmg their leaders as traitors. HflBBBtftrfli 
the p&rty favorable to Oalvin was un aisputed master of Geneva . 
^^Vl W*"^ ntiinimt'S^^llt thp f^mmn^ 3an ger to Bern and 
I, when Fmrnit^^jpl Philihert- duky of .^avov ^nd vicrtnr 

Lain over the French at St. -Q uentin m 1^7, wp enabl ed 
to lav claim to bis duchv^lhen mostly m possession oT lhe 

in whi^Xreneva stpodior.the first time on a fiJlejuijJ^ywith 
Its ally,,^8eCTU* Thus relieved of the most pressing perils^ at 
home and abroad, Calvin crowned his Grenevan work by the 
foundation in 1559 of the ^^Geneyan Academy ** — ^jn r^\i 
as it haa long^gince bfimme>tih.e xJaiversity of Genevu.' It 

<^me immediately the cn^a**^^ r^nf r^ nf -Hi^loafiat inqfyii^Aii 

ifiri fma 

i^rtlxfi .Kfitnrmfri oftmmunii>Da,, ^ djyi ^ ^ ^ ^ 

Lutheran, and the great iiffli mary from ^yEi3i ministers in 


!alvin*s influence extended far beyond Geneva. Thanks to 
his InstUnteSf his pattern of church goyemment in Geneva, his 
academy, his commentaries, and his constant correspondence, 
he moulded the thought and inspired the ideals of the Protes- 
tantism of France, the Netherlands, Scotland, and the English 
Puritans. His influence penetrated Poland and Himgary, and 
before his death Calvinism was taking root in soutiiwestem 
Germany itself. Men thought his thoughts after him. Ilis 
was the only syste m t hat the Reformation produced that could 
organize itself powerfully in the face of j;ov emmental Hostilit y, 
as in "France and EnglariJ.'* "Tt trainedst rong men, confident 
in their election tb be fellow workers ^ith God in tHa j^orv^m- 
pllshment of His wfllj courageous to do battle, i nsistent on d iar- 
acter, and confident that God has given In' t ne ijcnptures ^ ' t he 
guide of all right human conduct and prope r" worsnip. The 
spiritual disciples of Calvin, in most various lands, bore one com- 
mon stamp. This was Calvin's work, a mastery of mind over 

1 Kidd, p. 647. 

! /&id., p. 648. 


I . 




mind, and certainly by the time of his death in Geneva^ on May 
27^ 1564^ he deserved the description of ''the only international 
reformer." * 

Calvin left no successor of equal stature. The work had 
grown too large for any one man to direct. But in Geneva, 
and to a considerable extent in his labors beyond its borders, his 
mantle fell on the worthy shoulders of Theodore Beza (1519- 
1605), a man of more conciliatory spirit and gentler ways, but 
devoted to the same ideals, 


In England the stronger Kings had long practically controlled 
episcopal appointments, and such as were made directly by the 
Pope were usually on some basis of agreement with the sover- 
eign. The chief political posts were filled by churchmen, partly 
because few laymen could vie with them in learning or experi- 
ence, and partly because the emoluments of high chiuchly 
office made such appointments inexpensive for the royal 
treasury. Naturdly, in such appointments, ability and use- 
f Illness in the roxal fljeiryicajrePB^^jA. xaatCL. valued than 
spiritual fitness. Sudi waa tW atote-^ affair&.wliea.Heniy 

Humanism had entered England and had found supporters in 

nmited groups among ^ edmktesiZZlQllR^QktJ^ ^ 

'^ jiHimiately dean of St. Pavil!a iaT4andon, hnd lfytiiripdJn.flxfoirf 
!'• on Paul' s episflesy * in ful^hugagiijstjc sp iri t, as early tt^ 1496. 
^ and ref ounded St. rauPs school in 1512. Erasmus had taught 

3f^ ^ C???^jJ&?.TrPW 1511 to lfi14, haYing,.fintjd§ited E^^lapd 
K i n 1499, a nd he made many friends there. One of these was ^ 
% « the excellent John Tisher ' (1469 ?-1535)j, bishop of Rochester, 
j^ and'another, the'Tanxous.Sii: J!hoiaa3 MQre^(1478-1535). Yet 
^v fEere wasTittle in the situation at the beginning of Henry VIIFs 
^ reign that made a change in the existing ecclesiastical situation 
seem possible. On e trait of the natio nal li fe was con spicuous, 
however, which was to be fhelSasis'of henryVIU^s supports 
That'^wais "a strongly de veToped niatio nar consciousness — a \'' 
feeling of ^^jy^giftnrl W Hlngrlifttirni^n — ffinf w^s^^easlly "aroused. 16 " 

nppnaif ir^Q |n ^)| fnrPigr^ P^nyftfl^f^pr^pnf fmrr^ what^VCr , SpUTCC. 

1 Kidd; p. 651. 


Henry VIII, who has been well described as a ''tyrant under 

legal fonns/' was a man of remarkable intellectual abilities and 

I executive force, well read and always interested in scholastic 

' theology, sympathetic with humanism, popular with the mass 

of the people, but egotistic, obstinate, and self-seeking. In the 

early part of his reign he had the support of Thomas Wolsey 

1147^-^'^^), ^^^ KpTitiT^P A pnvy ^p^inoillnr in ij^ll^ Ann in 

Bidden, and Henry Vllt published his Asse rtion of the Seve n 
'Sacraments against Luther in 1521, which wnn i^mm i .t^ V tho 
fitle "Defender of the Faitlj ^ At the beginning of his rdgn 
fienry had married Catherine of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand 
and Isabella of Spain, and widow, though the marriage had been 
one in name only, of his older brother, Arthur. A dispensation 
authorizing this marriage with a deceased brother's wife had 
been granted by Julius II in 1503. Six children were bom of 
thb union, but only one, Mary, survived infancy. By 1527, if 
not earlier, Henry was alleging religious scruples as to the valid- 
ity of his marriage. His reasons were not wholly sensuaL Had 
they been, he might well have been content with his mistresses. 
A woman had never ruled England. The Wars of the Roses 
had ended as recently as 1485. The absence of a male heir, 
should Henry die, would probably cause civil war. It was not 
likely that Catherine would have further children. He wanted 
another wife, and a male heir. 

Wolsey was induced to favor the project, partly from his sub- 
servience to the King, and partly because, if the marriage with 
Catherine should be declared invalid, he hoped Henry would 
marry the French princess, Ren6e, aJPterward duchess of Fer- 
rara, and thus be drawn more firmly from the Spanish to 
the French side in continental politics. Henry, however, had 
other plans. He had fallen in love with Anne Boleyn, a lady 
of his court. A complicated negotiation followed, in whidi 
Wolsey did his best to please Henry, while Catherine behaved 
with dignity and finnness, and was treated with cruelty. Prob- 
ably an annulment of the marriage might have been secured 
from Pope Clement VII had it not been for the course of Euro- 
pean politics, which left the Emperor Charles V victor in war, 
and forced the Pope into submission to the imperial policy 


(ante, p. 358). Charles was detennined that his aunt, Cathe- v 
rine, should not be set aside. Henry, angered at Wolsey's 
want of success, turned on him, and the great cardinal died, 
November 30, 1530, on his way to be tried for treason. 
Henry now thought well of a suggestion of Thomas CranmCT 

opinions of jiniversiti^Jbe. sought. This was dpg^jaJLSSD, Z' 
with only partiaf success; fcut amendship was jbfiSfua Jbfitiyfieu 


■avorable action from the Pope being now out of the ques- 
tion, Henry determined to rely on the national feeling of ^o s- ^ 
tilitv^to ^orei^ rule, and his.ownjlespotic skill, either to^ break 
with, t he papapy altogether, or to so threaten papal' control 

^M Jo secure his wishes... In J anuary, 1 531, he charged ffieV^^ 
body of clery w ithtgeach of t^Q}3rstatute..o£ j^^ 
T353ToFKvmg recpffl^ authority a^ papal leg^ 

--;^ authoiTty wl iicSTrenry liimself liad .recQgnii(Bd andap- 

^TOOvei Jle not only e^orteS ajgri^t^ as the price of par- , 
aon, but the 3ecIaiation3j; t£e convocations In which ihe^y 
clergy met/)Bat in respect to the Church of England, he was 
^ single and supre me Lord)' and^ a s far as the law of Christ 
allows, even subMHl^ head." Early inrT532, under severe 
royai'pressureTTaruament passed an act forbidding the pi^- 
'ment of all ^jimates. to Rome aavt with the Kin£^f! consent.^ 
in M ay following, the clergy in convocation agreed reluctantly, 

jnoi o n^ to make no new ecclesiastical laws without the King's 
penms^h,'but tdTsubmit all ensting statutes to a commission 
appointed by the"'Eahg.*'"AB3tt January 25, 1533, Henry 
sSigrc lly mai ' ried Anne Boleyn. In February Parliament for- 
bad all itppeals to Rome.' Henry lised the conditional prohlbi- • 
t ion o f annates to^rocureTrom Pope Clement "VH confirmation 
of hislappointment of Thomas Cranmer as archbishop of Can- • 
terbuTj^. CraSiner' wasconsecrated on March 30; pn May 23^ 
TTranmer held court and formally adjudged Heniy^s marriage 
to (Catherine null ana^voiai'^Dn'Beptember 7j. Anne Boleytt 

b ore a t]^\}ghf jpT J fii#> prinppflft FJi>.flhfftJhj Utfir to bc Queen. 
While these events were occurring Clement VII had prq>ared 

^ Gee and Hardy, DocumenU nhutnUwe of EnaUsh Church Hidory, pp. 
■ Ibid'., pp. 17ft-178. » Ibid., pp. 187-195. 


a bull threatening excommunication against Henry on July II, 

1533. Hftnry^a ftflgypr was a series of statutes obtained fro m 

Parliament in 153 4, by whic h, all payments to ibe Pope were 

; tnfT;T<tTpn"~n]1 hj<^|inp<^' were^fo be elected o n the iimg^ s nomina- 

4tion, and all oaths of papal obedience, Roman hcenses, and 
Other recogiumns oFjapaTauinoriiy go ne ftW&y.^ ine tw o 
convocations now f ormflly" "aBjured Pftp&l supremacy.'' in 
November, 1534. Parliamen t passe d the famous fc)upremacv 
,^i^JijLjiidbAQli TfftTiry anrj ^i^ff gyprft gsors were declared " tne 
only supreme head in eai±lu)i.tlie Ch urch ot Ijingland/' with out 
quaufymg clauses, and with full power to redress ''heresies" 
and ''abuses."^ This was not imderstood by the King or 
its authors as giving spiritual rights, such as ordination, the 
adminbtration of the sacraments and the like, but in all else 
it practically put the King in the place of the Pope. The 
breach with Rome was complete. Nor were these statutes in 
any way meaningless. In May, 1535, a number of monks of 
one of the most respected orders in England, that of the Car- 
thusians, or Charterhouse, were executed imder circumstances 
of peculiar barbarity, for denying the King's supremacy. In 
/ June and July the two most widely known subjects of the 
v/ King, Bishop J ohn Fisher and Sir Thnrnpa ^yf^r^n ftifftiinr"*'^**^ 
alike for character and scK^arship, were beheaded tot the 
same offense. 

For his work. Henry had found a new agent in Th omas 
Cromwell (1485 ?-l 540), a man of very humble QOOSL-i^^l" 
dier, merchant, and money-lender by t\\r^% of w|^oip Wolsey 
had made much use as business and parliamen tary age nt. By 
1531 Cromwell was of the privy council; in 1534 master of the 
rolls; and in 1536, layman that he was, viceregent for the King 
in ecclesiastical affairs. Henry was hungry for ecclesiastical 
property, both to maintain his lavish court and to create and 
reward adherents — ^the Reformation everywhere was marked 
by these confiscations — and late in 1534 he commissioned 
Cromwell to have the monasteries visited and report on their 
condition. The alleged facts, the truth or falsity of which is 
still a disputed matter, were laid before Parliament, which in 
^ Februaiy, 153& adjudged to the King, ''his heirs and assigns 
' forever, to do and use therewith his and their own wiUs," all 

» Gee and Hardy, pp. 201-232. « Ibid., pp. 251, 252. 

•iWd., pp. 243, 244. 



tundred po unds annuaHy,^ TIlP H^nmbftr th^ip aeniiftg^rftH ^ 
was three nunared and 5}^Y flTlty"^'^ 

Meanwiiile Henry kad been in part relieved from the danger 
of foreign intervention by the death in January, 1536, of 
Catherine of Aragon. He seems now to have wished to con- 
tract a marriage not open to the criticisms of that with Anne 
Boleyn, of whom he was, moreover, tired. She was accord- 
ingly charged with adultery, in May, 1536, whether rightly 
or wrongly is impossible to decide, though the accusation 
seems suspicious, and on the 19th was bel)eaded. Two days be- 
fore Cranmer had pronounced her marriage to Henry null and 
void. Eleven days later Henry married Jand Seymour, who 
bore him a son, Edward, on October 1% 1537, and died twelve 

TTnglandTwitH the result that a formidable insiurection, known / 
"as the Pilgrimage of Grace JBrok'e out in the summer of .153fi,^ 
Ibii? by the ead^J^f^ i:>f,.the following year . waa. efFectually 

I^2l2^JE^ thp*^ nliangoQ \n "PngioT^^ WPEfL pHmarily those of 
eccle sia^ical^olit'^ mthff ^^"" roligi^iw conviction, ^the^is- 
rurbed state of thfi.CQlWitlXKaYe-QPEortunity for a real, though as i 
vet not nume rous, Protestftnt BftrtYi In origin it seems to have * 
jneen moreindija^enous than im ppr tecjj. an d to h ave foilow^ejf more 
^t first the TOthway shown by._W Yclif than bx Luther. Lilce / 

Wyclif, it ^^^**^t0,?^.'^..3tote to rfifor^ t^fi^yb'irrjjV^^^'^ viewed .^ 
the riches of the church as a hindrance to its spirituality. Hence 
this party had little fault to find with Henry's assertions and 
confiscations. Like Wyclif, it valued the circulation of the 
Bible, and came more and more to test doctrine and ceremony 
by conformity to the Scriptures. As the German revolt de- 
veloped, it came to feel more and more continental influences. 
A conspicuous leader was William Tyndale (1492?~3L536)* 
Eager to, translate the New /fetamentxiinTunable iaJuuy£.it 
j^ublished^ in Engl and^ he found _ref u^ on the Continent in 
1524, vTsiteTLuther, and published a really admirable transla- / 
Bo'n^f rom the Greek in 1526. (^ urchly and f^JYJl ft^'t^fif't.ifi?* *^ 
tried to suppr£aaitJbutit.3Ya.ft fli forre in aprending the Imowledgp. 
of the Scriptur^. Tyndale himself died a martyr in Vilvorde, 

^ Gee and Hardy, pp. 257-268. 


near Brussels, in 1636. Ty iidale's friend^ John Frith (15 03- 
1533), found refuge in Marburg, a nd ihence return ^ 

denying me doctrines of purgatory and transubstantiation. In 
sympatiiy with these doctrinally reformatory views, though 
varying in outward expression, were Cranmer, Nicholas Ridley 
(1500?-1555), Hugh Latimer (1490?-1555), and John Hooper 
( ?~1555), all to be bishops, and all to die by fire for their farth. 
As Henry's opposition to Rome developed, Protestant feeling 
spread among laymen of influence, a conspicuous instance 
being the Seymoiur family, from which Henry had taken his 
third Queen. 

Henry's own religious attitude was that of Catholic ortho- 
doxy, save on the substitution of his own authority for that 
of the Pope. His only departures from it were when diui gers 
of attack from abroad compelled him tp. flA#>lf nnaaij^jfj pnlifipal 
supjport f rom the German, Protestants, and he did not ih^ ^ 
far. Such an occa^on occurred in the vearsl§g 5and 15 36. 
\ *He sent a conmiission to discuss doct rine in Witten 
"though it came to'filfle. In 15 36 Henry imnsg j| ^^a-trgfi 
Arficles in which he made his utmost con cession to Protesta nt 
is m^ The au thoritative standards of I ai^2SjEIBIEE-the 
4postles', Nicene, and Aliianftaian..cre ^8. and the ^our fir st 
cpuncil^^i — Only thp e c .saCTaments are de&ied: baptism, pen - 
juice, and the Lord's Supper; the other s are not mentio iiei 
either in approval or' Henial. Justification implies faith lET 
^ Christy alone, but co nfession an d absolutibn and works of 
cBariiEy are"arso_necessary. CErist is p hvsicallv present in the 
5upper. .Images are to be honoried, but with moderation. 
The saints are to be invoked, but nottecaiis e they ^'will hea r 
us sooner than Christ.^ Masses for the dead are desirab le, 
tut the idea that the "bishop of Rome/-, c an deliver ftii^ ^ 
purgatory is to be rejected. 

A more influential actof this time, instigated by Cranmer, 
was that an English translation of the Bible, made up in large 
part of Ty^dale's version, but in considerable portion from the 
inferior work of Miles Coverdale, was allowed sale in 1537, and 
was ordered by Cromwell in 1538 to be placed accessible to 
the public in each church.^ The Lord's Prayer and the ten 
commandments were to be taught in English, the litany was 

' Gee and Hardy, p. 275. 


translated; but otherwise worship remained substantially un- ^ 
changed in the Latin language and form while Henry lived. 

He nry's work during these years had been free from for- 
eiffl interference, because (jh a xles V ana JTancis i were at 
war from Imp to lojsg . with the amvai oi peace his dangers 
^^atly increased. The Pope demanded a joint attack by 
France and Spain on the rqyal rebel. Henry's diplomacy and 
mutual jealousies warded it o£P; but he took several steps of 
importance to lessen his periL He would show the world that 
he was an orthodox Catholic save in regard to the Pope. Ac- 
cordingly, in June, 1539, P arliament passed the Six ^Lr ticles 

" S^} It a Hmned aa TBe^crmi nf KnyLnd a strirt dnrtrme!^ 
'ansubstantiati on, denial of which was to be punished by fire. 

O LrePu diated communion uitotliT)rea3"an3 wm^, flilT^ pntySv 
marriage. Tf ordereiTthe jgerma^^ observation of^yows. of 
'c hastity;^ eniomed ,^nYate.jaa^^.i^ conffiffiJOfl- 

M^hiq ^fnfiifi^ r^n^ftinAH in fnrna fill H^nry^ At^ofh . ItJEaaAQ.t 
tf>noii^h^ hnwftVftr, ^^sf.t TTpTirjrflhnii|t;^ ^^0^ hinas^lf orthodox. 

So^^^wjdower, and Cromwell was urgent that he strengthen 
hisjositioja oy a marriagi^ which would please the German V 
Prot^tentij^jmd unite him with those opposed to the Emperor 
Charles V. Anne of Cleves, sister of tiie wife of John Fred- 
gfUik, \ M 8mon Elwlur , was a e let rtgd; ;j%g ma r r la ge took pl&ce ' 

Meanwhile Henry had completed the confiscations of all the 
monasteries in 1539.' He was stronger at home than ever. 
Francis and Charles were evidently soon to be again at war, 
and the Emperor was beginning to court Henry's assistance. 
German Plx)testants looked askance at his Six Articles, and he 
now no longer needed their aid. Henry had regarded the mar- 
riage with Anne of Cleves as a mere political expedient. An 
annulment was obtained in July, 1540, from the bishops on 
the ground that the King had never given ''inward consent" 
to 1^ marriage, and Anne was handsomely indenmified pe- 
cuniarily. For Cromwell, to whom the marriage was due, he 
had no further use. A bill of attainder was put through 
Parliament, and the King's able, but utterly unscrupulous, i 
servant was beheaded on July 28, 1540. These events were I 
accompanied by increasing opposition to the Protestant ele-/ 
ment, and this Catholic inclination was evidenced in Henry's/ 

1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 303^10. ' Ibid., pp. 281-303. 


marriage to Catheijng. JIgward, niece of the duke of Norfolk, 
shortly after his separation from Anne of Cleves ; but the new 
Queen's conduct was open'to question, and in February, 1542, 
she was beheaded. In July, 1543, he married Catherine Parr, 
who had the fortune -to survive him. On January 28, 1547, 
Henry died. 

At Henry's death England was divided into three parties. 
Of these, that embracing the great body of Englishmen stood 
fairly with the late King in desiring no considerable change in 
doctrine or worship, while rejecting foreign ecclesiastical juris- 
diction. It had been Henry's strength that, with all h is 
tyranny, EiTwas feirly representative or tms great mid dle piirty . 
There were, oesides, two small parties, neither Tainy represen- 
tative — a Catho j ic wing th at w ould restore me power or Lo e 
papacy, and a Protestant faction that wouid mtroduce rerorm 
as it was understood on the Continent, ine latter liad un- 
doubtedly been 'gr6wing7lfi spite ^ofrepression, during Henry's 
last years. It was to be England's fortune that the two smaUer 
and unrepresentative parties should be successively in power 
during the next two reigns, and that to religious turmoil agra- 
rian unrest should be added, owing to the great changes in 
property caused by monastic confiscations, and even more to 
enclosures of common lands by greedy landlords, and the im- 
poverishment of humbler tenants by the loss of their time- 
honored rights of use. 

Edward VI was but nine years of age. The government was, 

therefore, administered in his name by a council, of which the 

y.fir1 pf Hertfnrc^, ^r, ^r he was immediat ely created, duk e of 

Somerset, was chief, with the title of 'Prot ector. socQa^et 

' Yf^, the briSlher of the yoiing King^s moth er, the short-lived 

Jane Seymour. He .waSuA man of Protestant sympathies, and of 
excellent intentions — a bdifiver iaAde©:eie of lib erty in reiinous'^ 
^nd political questions in marked contra st to Henrv yil i> 
He was, also, a sincere friend of the dispossessed lower agricul- 
tural classes. Under his rule the new comparative freedom of 
religious expression led to many local innovations and much 
controversy, in which the revolutionary party more and more 
gained the upper hand. T" irat Po^i;«^^^t^j| fiTfifinifi th"* "^- 
ministration of the cup to the laity .^ The same year the l ast 
great confiscation of diurch lands occurred— the dissol utioD of 

1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 322-328. 

* I 



the ''chantries/' that is, endowed chapels for saying masses. 
Tt[e' p rofigrttey pf rdigi^ Traternities and guiTds were also 
gyjiiftstpjprO ^hp1?rir Ar»[r>Ifesi ^nfsteL Tcpe^ed^ Early ii^ ^ ^ 
m i ngin IT r r r ■ i rl r \ r ■! r r m n t a r1 ^^"^ ^^<> f*^iir/^>u>« 7^ M MJMg ^ 

The confusion soon became great, and as a means at once of 
advancing the reforms and securing order, Parliament, on 
^S^S^^UM^^^ U^iformitx^ bv which 1^ 

the universal use of a Book of C.omfflon J^jriMr^. jift Englum Wf^s ^ 
ng^til rpj,'^ 'Xt?V ^^^j T^nnwn ft°^^^ ^'M ^'-.'^y^^ ?^fr ^f £d- 

ward VI, was largely the work of Craniner; based oel the older 
Engnsfi* ser^teer'lll LatttCwilTT^ome use of ^a reyisednKaman 
breviary, published in 1535 by Cardinal Fernandez de Quinones, 
and the Lutheranly inclined tentative Considtaium of Hermann 
von Wied, archbishop of Cologne, issued in 1543. In its 
larger feature it is still the Prayer Book of the Church of Eng- 
land, but this edition preserved much of detail of older wor- 
ship, such as prayers for the dead, communion at burials, 
anointing and exorcism in baptism, and anointing the sick, 
which was soon to be abandoned. In the Eucharist the words 
used in handing the elements to the communicant were the 
first clause of tiie present Anglican form, implying that the 
body and blood of Christ are really received. 

Meanwhile, Somerset was beset with political troubles. To 
coimteract the growing power of Prance in Scotland he urged ' 
the union of the two countries by the ultimate marriage of 
King Edward with the Scottish Pnncess Mary, to be "Queen 
of Scots,'' and supported his efforts by an invasion of Scotland 
in which the Scots were terribly defeated, on September 10, 
1547. at P '"^'%|^"^ V ^^'^^ ^^'? ^nir p^irp^qA wi^^ fr^igtm^^y^ ^ 
The a 

caij££jLQrJthe Scattishurefprmfttian. 

Somerset's fall came about, however, through causes credita- 
ble to himself. He realized the agra rian disconte nt, and be- 
lieved that efforts should be furthered to check enclosures. 
In this he had the bitter opposition of the landowning classes, 
of whom none were more greedy than the recent purchasers of 
monastic property. Extensive risings took place in 1549. 
They were put down with difficulty, largely by the efficiency of 

> Gee and Hardy, pp. 328-367. */6id., pp. 36^-368. >/Wa., pp. 368-^66. 


the earl of Warwick. Thus in favor with the propertied classes, 
Warwick headed a conspiracy which thrust Somerset from his 
protectorate in October^ 1549. 

Warwick^ or the duke of Northumberland as he later be- 
came, though never assuming the title Protector, was now the 
most powerful man in England. The religious situation under- 
went rapid change. Somerset had been a man of great mod^n- 
tion, anxious to conciliate all parties. Northumberland was 
without religious principles himself, but he pushed forwaid 
the Protestant cause for political reasons, and the movement 
now took on a much more radical character. Though ap- 
parentiy reconciled to Somerset, he distrusted the former 
protector's popularity, and had Somerset beheaded in 1552. 
His own gteed, tyranny, and misgovemment made him cor- 
dially hatei. 
tThe Prayer Book of 1549 was not popular. Conservatives 
isliked the changes. Protestants felt that it retained too 
luch of Roman usage. These criticisms were supported by a 
number of foreign theologians of prominence, driven from Ger- 
many by the Interim, who found welcome in En^and, of whom 
the most influential was Butzer of Strassburg. This hostility 
was now able to be effective under the more radical policy of I 
Northumberland, and led to the revision of the Prayer Book, I 
and its reissue under a new Act of Uniformity in 1552.^ Much/ 
more of the ancient ceremonial was now done away. Pray«^ 
for the dead were now omitted, a commimion table substituted 
for the altar, common bread, instead of a special wafer, used in 
the Supper, exorcism and anointing set aside, the priests' vest- 
ments restricted to the surplice, and what is now the second 
clause of the Anglican form of the delivery of the elements 
substituted, implying a doctrine looking toward tiie Zwin^ian 
conception of the Supper. 

Cranmer had been engaged in the preparation of a creed, 
which was submitted by order of the Council of Government 
in 1552 to six theologians, of whom John Knox was one. Th ^ \— 
result w as jhe Forty -two Articles, which were authorized b v 1 
tEe'young King's^^riaKre, June 1271553, less than a mon th i 

decidedly more Protestant in tone than th e Prayer Book . 
XJni)opular as he was, Northumberland was d eiemim ed to 

> Gee and Hardy, pp. 969-372. 


maintain his power. Edward VI was visibly frail m body, 
ana i>iorthii mDerlana learedJor his own life snoulj Marv sue- 
ceea to tne thrpfl e. The plan that he now adopted was desper- 
fter^ lle ind uce d the yo uthful^ JGng to settle the su ccession 
on Lady Jane Ijrey, wife of Northumberland's fouirth^son, 

, ISCaiYT ■IISJ^flrYI.haJ .nftJssaJ do. . He j>_as9ed 

IVfery Queen of Scots." whose genealogical title was better / 
than that of Lady Jane. To this wild plan Cranmer «ive 

*" Northimiberland's plot failed completely. His unpopularity 
was such that even tiie most Protestant portions of England, 
such as the city of London, rallied to Mary. She was soon { 
safely on the throne and Northwmberland was beheaded, de- ■ 
daring on the scaffold that he was a true Catholic. Mary 
proceeded with caution at first, guided by the astute advice of 
her cousin the Emperor Charles Y. Parliament declared her 
mother's marriage to Henry VIII valid. The ecclesiastical 
legislation of Edward VI's reign was repealed, and public wor- _ - 
ship restored to the forms of the last year of Henry VIIL* 
Cranmer was imprisoned. The Emperor saw in Mary's proba- 
ble marriage an opportunity to win Englabd, and now proposed 
his son Philip, soon to be Philip II of Spain, as her husband. 
The marriage took place on July 25, 1554, and was exceedingly j 
unpopular, as threatening foreign control. 

Reconciliation with Rome had thus far been delayed, though . 
bishops and other clergy of reformatory sympathies had been 
removed, and many of the more earnest Protestants had fled 
to the Continent, where they were warmly received by Calvin, 
though coolly treated by the Lutherans as heretical on the ques- 
tion of Christ's physical presence in the Lord's Supper. The 
reason of this delay was fear lest the confiscated church proper- 
ties should be taken from their present holders. On intimation 
that this would not be the papal policy. Cardinal Reginald 
Pole (1500-1558) was admitted to England. Parliament voted 
the restoration of papal authority, and on November 30, 1554, 
Pole pronounced it and the nation was absolved of heresy. 
Parliament now proceeded to re-enact the ancient laws against 
heresy' and to repeal Henry VIII's ecclesiastical legislation, 

» G6C and Hardy, pp. 377-380. « /Wd., p. 384. 


thus restoring the church to the state in which it had been in 
1529, save that former church property was assured by the 
statute to its present possessors.^ 

Severe perseciltion at once began. Its first victim was John 
Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, who was burned in London 
on February 4, 1555. The attitude of the people, who cheered 
him on the way to the stake, was ominous for this policy; but 
before the end of the year, seventy-five had suffered by fire in 
various parts of England, of whom the most notable were the 
former bishops, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridl^, whose 
heroic fortitude at their deaths in Oxford, on October 16, 
created a profoimd popular impression. Another conspicuous 
victim of this year was John Hooper, former bishop of Glou- 
cester and Worcester. Mary was determined to strike the high- 
est of the anti-Roman clergy. Archbishop Cranmer. Cranmer 
was not of the heroic stuff of which Latimer, Ridley, Hooper, 
and Rogers were nuide. He was formally excommunicated by 
sentence at Rome on November 25, 1555, and Pole was shortly 
after made archbishop of Canterbury in his stead. Cranmer 
was now in a logical dilemma. He had asserted, since his 
appointment under Henry VIII, that the sovereign is the 
supreme authority in the English church. His Protestantism 
was real, but that sovereign was now a Roman Catholic. In 
his distress he now made submission declaring that he recog- 
nized papal authority as established by law. Mary had no 
intention of sparing the man who had pronounced her mother's 
marriage invalid. Cranmer must die. But it was hoped that 
by a public abjuration of Protestantism at his death he would 
discredit the Reformation. That hope was nearly realized. 
Cranmer signed a further recantation denying Protestantism 
wholly; but on the day of his execution in Oxford, March 21, 
1556, his courage returned. He repudiated his retractions 
absolutely, declared his Protestant faith, and held the offending 
hand, which had signed the now renoimced submissions, in the 
flame till it was consumed. His dying day was the noblest of 
his life. 

Philip had left England in 1555, and this absence, coupled 
with her own childless state, preyed on Mary's mind, inducing 
her to feel that she had not done enough to satisfy the judgmait 
of God. Persecution therefore continued unabated tiU her 

HJiee and Hardy, pp. 385-^15. 


death on November 17, 1558. In all, somewhat less than three 
himdred were burned — a scanty number compared with the 
toll of sufferers in the Netherlands. But Epglish sentiment 
deeply revolted. These martyrdoms did more for the spread 
of , anti-Roman sentiment than all previous governmental 
efforts had accomplished. It was certain that the accession of 
the next sovereign would witness a change or civil war, 

Elizabeth (Queen 1558-1603) had long passed as illegitimate, 
though her place in the succession had been secured by act of 
Parliament in the lifetime of Henry VIII. Of all Henry's 
children she was the only one who really resembled him in 
ability, insight, and personal popularity. With a masculine 
force of character she combined a curious love of personal adorn- 
ment inherited from her light-minded mother. Of real religious 
feeling she had none, but her birth and Roman denials of her 
mother's marriage made her necessarily a Protestant, though 
under Mary, when her life had been in danger, she had con- 
formed to the Roman ritual. Fortunately her accession had 
the support of Philip II of Spain, soon to be her bitterest en- 
emy. That favor helped her with English Catholics. Earnest 
Roman as he was, Philip was politician enough not to wish to 
see France, England, and Scotland come under the rule of a 
single royal pair, and if Elizabeth was not Queen of England, 
then Mary "Queen of Scots," wife of the prince who was in 
1559 to become King Francis II of France, was rightfully 
entitled to the English throne. In her first measures on acces- 
sion Elizabeth enjoyed, moreover, the aid of one of the most 
cautious and far-sighted statesmen England has ever produced, 
William Cecil (1521-1598), better known as Lord Bur^ey, 
whom she at once made her secretary and who was to be her 
chief adviser till his death. For Elizabeth it was a great ad- 
vantage also that she wa^ thoroughly English in feeling, 
and deeply sympathetic with the political and economic 
ambitions of the nation. This representative quality recon- 
ciled many to her government whom mere religious considera- 
tions would have repelled. No one doubted that she put Eng- 
land first. 

Elizabeth proceeded cautiously with her changes. Parlia- . 
ment passed the j;^^^ ^rupTfJTfi^y ^/^/ w\tb much opposition, I 
on April 29, 1559. "TBy it the authority of the Pope ana all pay- 1 

1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 442-458. 



ments and ^>peals to him were rejected. A significant diange 
of title i^peared, however, by Elizabeth's own insistence. 
Instead of the old ''Supreme Head/', so obnoxious to the 
Catholics, she was now styled ''Supreme Grovemor'' of the 
church in En^and — a much less objectionable phrase, thou^ 
amounting to the same thing in practice. Hie tests of heresy 
w^e now to be the Scriptures, the first four General Councils, 
and the decisions of Parliament. Meanwhile a commission 
had been revising the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI {ante, 
p. 410). The prayer against the Pope was omitted, as was the 
dedaration that kneeling at the Supper did not imply adora- 
tion, while the question of Christ's physical presence was left 
intentionally undetermined by the combination of the fcnrms 
of delivery in the two Edwardean books (ante, pp. 409, 410). 
These modifications were designed to render tiie new service 
more palatable to Catholics. T he Act of Uniformity^ now 
ordered all worship to_be, conducted, arier J une ^. xoo;i. in" 
I 'accordance with this litycgy^juid provTcTeJ that the ornament s 
^ of the church and the vestments of its ministCTS shoutd be 
" those of the se concLyear^of Edward VI. ^-^^^^ 

The oath oi supremacy was refused by all but two ob- 
scurer members of the Marian episcopate, but among the lower 
clergy generally resistance was sQght, the obstinate not amount- 
ing to two hundred. New bishops must be provided, and 
Elizabeth directed the election of her mother's one-time chap- 
lain, Matthew Parker (1504-1575), as archbishop of Canter- 
bury. His consecration was a perplexing question; but th^e 
were those in England, who had received ordination to the 
bishopric under Henry VIII and Edward VI. Parker was now 
consecrated, on December 17, 1559, at the hands of four such — 
William Bariow, John Scory, Miles Coverdale, and John Hodg- 
kin. The validity of the act, on which the apostolic succession 
of the English episcopate depends, has always been stron^^y 
aflirmed by Anglican divines, while attacked by Roman theo- 
logians, on various grounds, and declared invalid by Pope Leo 
JXIII in 1896, for defect in "intention." Thus inaugurated, 
a new Anglican episcopate was speedily established. A defini- 
tion of the creed, other than implied in the Prayer Book, was 
1 purposely postponed;^ but ^in 1563 the Fo rty-two Articles o f 
1 1553 {ante, p. 410) were somewhat revised,*and 

^ ^ Gee and Hard3% pp. 45^-467. 



Thirty-nine Articles, became the statement of faith of the y 
Church QrEn£lana7 

Ihus. by 1563 th e Elizabethan settlement was accom- 
^plished. It was threateneii 7rom two sides: from ttat oiP Rome, 

and, ev en mo re dangerously, from the earnest refonners who / 
wrsh'ed t o go furtEef and" soon "wereT»15e mcEnamed"FurifanS. ^ 
TEe"femarEaBIe f^tUrt 6f the Ehglisfi"revbK is that it pro- 
duced no outstanding religious leader — ^no Luther, Zwingli, 
Calvin, or Knox. Nor did it, before the beginning of Eliza- 
beth's reign, manifest any considerable spiritual awakening 
among the people. Its impulses were political and social. A 
great revival of the religious life of England was to come, the 
earlier history of which was to be coincident with Elizabeth's 
reign, but which was to owe nothing to her. 


At the dawn of the sixteenth century Scotland was a poor 
and backward country. Its social conditions were mediaeval. 
The power of its Kings was small. Its nobles were turbulent. 
Relatively its church was rich in land, owning about one-half 
that of the country, but churchly positions were largely used to 
supply places for younger sons of noble houses, and mudi clerical 
property was in the hands of the lay nobles. The weak mon- 
archy had usually leaned on the church as against the lay 
nobility. Education was backward, though universities had 
been founded in the fifteenth century in St. Andrews, Glas- 
gow, and Aberdeen. Compared with continental seats of learn- 
ing they were weak. 

The ^f trn"^"^"g Ty>/v<-;«^ ^a ^x>^ ^ gcpt^sh political history 
JQ this periftfj 1^^° ^'^^ ^^ Ar^rt^\r^^rY^ q]. anncxatiOA Ey Eng- 
land, persuading it to link the fortunes of the land with those 
of ^ance. Three grievous defeats by the English — Floddea 
(131AJ, bolway "Moss (1 542), and Pinkie (1547) — strengthened ^ 
tms f eeliiyi of antagonism71?ut showed thateYca English gnpari- 
ority in fo rce could not conquer Scotland. jOn the other hand, 
Scotland in alliance with France was a great peril for England, 
the more serious when England had broken with the papacy. 
Therefore England and France both sought to build up parties 
and strengthen factions favorable to themselves in Scotland. 

> Schaff, Crtxd^ oj Christendom, III : 487-516. 



O p tJift w hH^ *^*» pnwprf^ll family of Douglas was incline d 

fnwarH Englanf^, whilft fhstt nf Hftp i' l ton faVOred FlUQCe . 

so pad strong supp orters in Archbi^op James BfSXSn 
of St. Andrews, the primate of Scotland^ and Eis 

ranee a 

e^ pnmate 
ton fl4W 
m the same see. Though Kine James 

nephew, 'Cardinal DaviJ^eaton (14947- 

led 1513-lJ 

was neghew of ITenry VTl l, andn is^ randson, James Vl^ was to 
become James 1 oJ EngTand in 160 3 and unite th e two crowns 
/ after the death of Eliza'bgtll^J^mfeS T threw m hitf fOflllli^ with 
^ France, nmrrying successjyelj^^a dau^ter o fjfatncis 1, AAA, MtfiT 
ler death, Mary of I^rrame. q/ the powfrllH '^'r encn CatKoli c 
family ofTjuise. This latter union, so important in the history^ 
5^ ScotlanJ, was'to have as its fruit Mary "Queen of Scots." 

Some Protestant beginnings were early made in Scotland. 
Patrick Hamilton (15()4?-1528i, who ha d visited Wittenl 
andjtudied in Marpurgjxeache3> tuthefan doc trine, and was 
"Kurned ^'on "February 29, 1528, .^The cause grew slowly. In 
l534 and 1540 there were other executions. Ye t, in 1543 the 
Scottish Parliament ftiithf^ri^ftH th^ rfff^\r]g ^jj^ ^n9}a^irm nf 

theTBiblej It was but a temporary ph5L<w*. di^ft ^ fiT K^*"^^ 
influence, and by 1544 Cardinal Beaton and th e French party 
were employing strong repression. Chief of tfi ^ preacf fers at 
thte time was George Wishart (1513?-1546), who was burned by 
Cardinal Beaton on March 2, 1546. On May 29 Beaton 
himself was brutally murdered, partly in revenge for Wishart's 
death and partly out of hostility to his Frendi policy. Hie 
murderers gained possession of the castle of St. Andrews and 
rallied their sympathizers there. In 1547 a hunted Protestant 
preacher, apparently a convert and certainly a friend of Wish- 
art, of no considerable previous conspicuity, took refuge with 
them and became their spiritual teacher. This was John Knox, 
to be the hero of the Scottish reformation. 

Bom in or near Haddington, between 1505 and 1515, Knox's 
early career was obscure. He was certainly ordained to the 
priesthood, but when Wishart was arrested he was with that 
martyr, and prepared to defend him. French forces sent to 
reduce the rebels in St. Andrews castle compelled its surrender, 
and Knox was carried to France to endure for nineteen months 
the cruel lot of a galley-slave. Released at length, he made 
his way to England, then under the Protestant government 
ruling in the name of Edward VI, became one of the royal chap- 


lains, and in 1552 declined the bishopric of Rochester. The 
accession of Mary compelled his flight, in 1554, but the English 
refugees whom he first joined in Frankfort were divided by 
his criticisms of the Edwardean Prayer-Book/ and he soon 
foimd a welcome in Geneva, where he became an ardent dis- 
ciple of Calvin, and labored on the Genevan version of the 
English Bible, later so valued by the English Puritans. 

Meanwhile the Enf^lish had alienated Scotland more than 

e vefby ' the defe at of Pinkiei^in J547. ...Ma^y Queen 61 Scots " 

^ad b een ,l^^ tro£H^ (f to thei Jieir Jtg, the French* tiirone and sent 

to Trance f qr^aJgfc^ia 1548^ , while . Eec . mother, the Guise, 

ISEanT^f Lorrame, became regent oi Scotlaiid. in, 1554. 

To a large portion of the Scottish nobles and people this 
full dependence on France was as hateful as any submission 
to England could have been. Protestantism and national inde- 
pendence seemed to be bound together, and it was in this 
double struggle that Knox was to be the leader. Knox now .^, 
dared to return to Scotland, iiil555, and preached for six 
months; but the situation was not yet ripe for revolt, and 
Knox retiuned to Geneva to become the pastor of the church 
of English-speaking refugees there. He had, however, sowed 
fruitful seed. On December 3, 1557. a number of Protestant 
and anti-French noDles in Scotland entered into a covenant / 
"to'"^establish the most blessed Word of God and His congre-y 
"gfttioh^'^^from which they .wefiELJuicknamed " The Lords of the 
-Congregation." ^ AdditioioAl iueL.was given, to this, dissent 
by the marriage of Mary to the French heir on April 24j 1658.* 
Scotland now seemed a province of Prance, for should there ' 
be a son of this union he would be ruler of both lands, and the ^ 
French grip was made doubly sure by an agreement signed by 
Mary, kept secret at the time, that France should receive 
Scotland should she die without heirs. Before 1558 was ended 
Elizabeth was Queen of England, and Mary "Queen of Scots" 
was denouncing her as an illegitimate usurper, and proclaiming 
herself the rightful occupant of the English throne. 

Upder these circumstancea th<^ ajlvooAtfia of SoQttiahJnde- 

_pendence and of Protestantism^rapidly increased and.bfifiW^e 

more and^'more fused into one party. ElizabetlT moreover, 

could ^e expected to, |issist*.it.Qnly for her own protection- 

"ICnox saw that the time was rea dy. O n Vigy 2, 1559. he was 

1 Kidd, p. 691 . « Ibid., p. 696. » Ibid,, p. 690. 




back in Scotland. Nine days later he preached InPerth, The 
mob destroyed the monastic establishments of the town.* 
This action the legent naturally regarded as rank rebellion. 
She had French troops at her disposal, and both sides promptly 
armed for combat. They proved fairly equal, and the r^ult 
was undecided. Churches were wrecked and monastic property 
sacked, to Knox's disgust, in many parts of Scotland. (>i 
July 1 0, 1559, H enry II of France died, and Mary's husband, 
Tnaffia il became King in his stead. French rdnforcements 
were promptly sent to the regent in Scotland. Matters went 
badly for the reformers. At last, in January, 1560^ Eng^h 
help came. The contest dragged. On June 11, iSgO, the re- 
gent died, but her cause perished with her. On July 6 a 
treaty was made between France and England by which 
French soldiers were withdrawn from Scotland, and Frenchmen 
were debarred from all important posts in its government 
The revolution had triumphed through English aid, but with- 
out forfeiting Scottish national independence, and its inspirer 
had been Knox.^ In this contest the Scottish middle classes 
had first shown themselves a power, and their influence was 
for the newer order. 
The victorious party now pushed its triumph in the Scottish 

f Parliament. On August 17, 1560, a Calvinistic confesdon of 
aith, largely prepared by Knox, was adopted as the creed of 
he realm.' A week later the same body abolished papal juris- 
diction, and forbad the mass under pain of death for the third 
offense.^ Though the King and Queen in France refused their 
approval, the majority of the nation had spoken. 

ICnox and his associates now proceeded to complete their 
work. In December, 1560, a meeting was held which is re- 
garded as the first Scottish "'General Assembly,'' m January 
following the First Book of Discipline was presented to the 
Parliament.^ ^It was a most remarkaBTe'^ocl HBent, atte mpt- 
*ing to apply the system worked out by Calvi n' io a whole 
dom, though the Presbyterian system was fa r from thorough ly 
developed as yet. In each parish there shb ulct be a min ister 
and elders holding office with the consent of the pongrcag aficm. 
Minister and elders constituted the disciplinary board^^-^ihe 

» Kidd, p. ey97. « Tbid., pp. 698-700. 

s Ibid., pp. 700, 704-707 ; Sohaff, Creeds of ChruUnd<m, 3 : 437-479. 

* Ibid,, pp. 701, 702. • Ibid., p. 707. 


later '' session *^ — ^with power of excommunication. In the larger 
towns were to be meetings for discussion, out of which '" pres- 
byteries"- were to grow ; over groups of ministers and congrega- / 
tions were synods, and over all the " General Assembly/' The 
need of the times and the inchoate state of the church led to 
two further institutions, "readers," in places where there were 
no ministers or the work was large, and "superintendents," 
without spiritual authority, but with administrative right to 
oversee the organization of parishes, and recommend minis- 
terial candidates. Besides these ecclesiastical features, the 
Book sketched out notable schemes of national education 
and for the relief of the poor. Knox would have church, 
education, and poor supported from the old church property ; 
but here the Book met the resistance of Parliament, which 
did not adopt it, though many of the body approved. The 
ecclesiastical constitution gradually came into force; but the 
nobles so possessed themselves of church lands that the church 
from relatively to the means of the country one of the richest 
became one of the poorest in Christendom. This ^^<*^'^v^ PftY"_ 
erty stamped on it a democratic char acter, however^ Ihat gas / 

Lurch of Scotland the bulwark of the people as^nst ^ 

io'EQake the church of Scotland the bulwark of the people ajj^nst 
encroft^^iffle^^ py thf> npbles and the crown. 

All obs e rvances no tJj^^Y'ff^g rS^"PtllipV.^V^.^^^.^y were swept 
awAy. Sunday was tlie only remaining holy day. For tlie > / 
conduct of public worship Knox prfip fty^fl ^J ionk ql CoTtmpn y/ 

based on that of the English conmgation in Geneva, which 
in turn was 'modelTed oh that of Calvin. * It allowed, however, 
even more use of free prayer, the forms given being regarded 
as models, the strict employment of which was not obligatory, 
though the general order and content of the service were definite 

Knox was soon obliged to defend what he had gained. King 
Francis II of France died on December 5, 1560, and in the 
following August Mary returned to Scotland. Her position 
as a youthful widow was one to excite a sympathy which her 
great personal charm increased. She was no longer Queen 
of France, and that element which had supported Protestant- 
ism not by reason of religion but from desire of national in- 

» Kidd, pp. 708-715. 


dependence might well think that the pressing danger of French 
domination which had induced acquiescence in the religious 
revolution had passed. Mary behaved, at first, with great 
prudence. While she made no secret of her own faith, and 
had mass said in her chapel to the furious disapproval of Knox, 
who was now minister of St. Giles in Edinburgh, and admired 
by the burghers of that city, she did not interfere in the re- 
ligious settlement effected in 1560. She strove to secure recog- 
nition as Elizabeth's heir to the English throne, a thing which 
Elizabeth had no mind to grant. Mary had the sage advice 
of her half-brother, James Stewart, later to be earl of Moray 
(1531 ?-1570), who had been a leader of the "Lords of the 
Congregation." She tried by personal interviews of great 
skill to win Knox, but he refused any overture and remained 
the soul of the Protestant party. Still the prospect darkened 
for him. Mary won friends. The Protestant nobles were 
divided. The mass was increasingly being used. Knox had 
good reason to fear that Mary would give a Catholic King to 
Scotland by marrying some great foreign prince. A marriage 
with the son of Philip II of Spain was seriously discussed. 

I Even more alarming for the Protestant cause in Scotland and 
England was Mary's actual marriage on July 29, 1565, to her 
cousin, Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley (1545-1567), with whom 
she had fallen in love. Damley's claim to the English throne 
stood next to that of Mary herself. He was popular with 
English Catholics, and though he had passed as a Protestant 
in England, he now avowed himself a Catholic. The marriage 
increased Elizabeth's danger at home and strengthened the 
Catholic party in Scotland. Moray opposed it, was driven 
from court, and soon into exile, and Mary made much progress 
in subduing, one after another, the Protestant lords who sym- 
pathized with Moray. She thus lost her wisest adviser. 

Thus far Mary had acted fairly shrewdly, but Scottish Protes- 
tantism was now saved by Mary's mistakes and want of self- 
control. Darnley was certainly disagreeable and vicious. 
Her feelings for him changed. On the other hand, his jealousy 
was roused by the favor which Mary showed to David Riocio, 
an Italian whom Mary employed as a foreign secretary, and 
^ who was looked upon by the Protestant lords as their enemy, 
j Darnley and a number of Protestant nobles, therefore, entered 
i into a plot by which Riccio was dragged from Mary's presence 


and murdered in the palace of Holyrood, on March 9, 1566. 
Mary behaved with great cunning. Dissembling her anger at 
the weak Damley, she secured from him the names of his fellow 
conspirators, outlawed those who had actually participated in 
the deed, and took the others back into favor, of course with 
the knowledge on their part that they were received on suffer- 
ance. On June 19, 1566, Mary and Damley*s son was bom, 
the future James VI of Scotland and James I of England. 
Mary never seemed surer on the Scottish throne. 

In reality Mary had never forgiven her husband, and she 
was now thrown much with a Protestant noble, James Hep- 
bum, earl of Bothwell (1536?-1578), a rough, licentious, but 
brave, loyal, and martial man, whose qualities contrasted with 
those of her weak husband, ^othwell now led in a conspiracyj 
to rid Ma r^ of Damley, with liow much share on the pact^fj / 
M ary heFself fs still one of th e disputed questions of history.!^ 
Damley, who was recovering from smallpox, was removed oy' 
Mary from Glasgow to a house on the edge of Edinburgh, 
where Mary spent part of the last evening with him. Early 
on the morning of February 10, 1567, the house was blown up, 
and Damley's body was found near it. Public opinion charged 
Bothwell with the murder, and it widely believed, probably 
with justice, that Mary also was guilty of it. At all events 
she heaped honors on Bothwell, who succeeded in securing ac- 
quittal by a farce of a trial. On April 24, Bothwell met Mary 
on one of her journeys and made her captive by a show of 
force — it was generally believed with her connivance. He was 
married, but he was divorced from his wife for adultery on 
May 3, and on May 15 he and Mary were married by Protes- 
tant rites. 

Jhese ^ameless t ransactions, rous ed general hostility in 

^gc ouang, while they robbed Mary, for the time, 6r CathoHc 

sympathy m England and on 'the Continent. Protestants agd 

*TJatholics in Scot land joined forces against her. Just a iQj^nth 

after ThCwe dding Mar y was a prisoner^ and on July 24, 1567,^ 

sEe was compelled to abdicate in favor of her year-old son, 

and appoint Moray as regent, while sh&Jimalierself impcisooed 

in Lochlev en Castle. On July 29 John Kndx preached the 

sermon at JamesvFs coronation. With Mary's fall came the 

triumph of Protestantism, which was now definitely established 

by Parliament in December. Mary herself escaped from 


Lochleven in May, 1568, but Moray promptly defeated her 
supporters, and she fled to England, where she was to remain, 
a centre of Catholic intrigue, till her execution for conspiracy 
against Elizabeth's life, in February, 1587. 

Knox's fiery career was about over. On November 24, 1572, 
he died, having influenced not merely the religion but the 
character of the nation more than any other man in Scottish 
history. Knox's work was to be taken up by Andrew Melville 
(1545-1623), who had taught as Beza's colleague in Geneva, 
from 1568 to his return to Scotland in 1574. He was the edu- 
cational reformer of the Universities of Glasgow and St. Andrews 
and even more distinguished as the perfecter of the Presbyterian 
system in Scotland and its vigorous defender against the royal 
and episcopal encroachments of James VT, who compelled lum 
to spend the last sixteen years of his life in exile from his native 


It has already been noted {ante, pp. 321-325) that a genera- 
tion before Luther's breach with Rome, Spain was witnessing 
a vigorous reformatory work led by Queen Isabella and Car- 
.dinal Ximenes. It combined zeal for a moro moral and intelli- 
gent clergy, abolition of glaring abuses, and Biblical studies for 
the learned, not for the people, with unswerving orthodoxy, 
judged by mediaeval standards, and repression of heresy by 
the inquisition. It was this movement that was to give life 
and vigor to the Roman revival, often, though rather incor- 
rectiy, called the Counter-Reformation. Outside of Spain it 
had very littie influence when Luther began his work. Indeed, 
the decline of the Roman Church was nowhere more evident 
than in the feebleness with which Protestant onslaughts were 
met by the contemporaries of the first quarter century of the 
great revolt, and the incapacity of the Popes themselves to 
realize the real gravity of the situation, and to put their inter- 
ests as great churchmen above their concerns as petty Italian 
princes. Though Adrian VI (1522-1523) exhibited a real, 
though utterly ineffective, reformatory zeal, in the Spanish 
sense, during his brief and unhappy pontificate, neither his 
predecessor, Leo X (1513-1521), nor his successor, Clement VII 
(1523-1534), was in any sense a religious leaderi and the poli^ 


cal ambitions of the latter contributed materially to the spread 
of Protestantism. 

Yet there were those^ even in Italy, who were anxious for 
reform, though not for revolution. Such a group founded in 
Rome about 1517 the "Oratory of Divine Love." Among its 
leaders wflaOjnyftnni Pip|jft ^ftl^^ffft fH7?~! ??9), later to b e 

^^__^_^ Another member 

was Jaco pp Sado leto (1477-1547); and in close sympathy, 
th ough nofone_of^VDratory^jyas Senator tTasparoCbntarwi 
(T583f^l542)^ of Venice, who was still a layman. Of these, 
" ^Car^fffl. was nTunhe h^g 'flevotjon to medifleval dogma, whfie 
Conterini had much sympathy with LutherV doctrine of jus- 
tification by faith alone^ {hoiigh not with his rejection of the 
ancient hierarchyi^^Pope Paul III (1534-1549), more aKve 
than his predecessors to the gravity of the situation^ made 
Conta rin i, Caraffa, Sadoleto, and Ae English Reginald Pole 
'(lS(k>-15^ii; cardmals early in £is pontificate, and appomted 
them, with others, a commission on the betterment of the 
churdi, which made a plam-spoken, but resultless, report in 

These men were far removed from really Protestant views. 
But there were a considerable number whose sympathies led 
them much further. In Venice they were particularly numer- 
ous, though they produced no real leader tiiere. In that dty 
Brucciol i's Italian, translatio n of the New Testamen t was 
prmted in 1530, and of the wkole Bibie in 1532. Ferrara's 
hospitality, under JJiichess Henfe, has alreadyHbeen' noted 'in 
connection witgrklvln (qnfg^iji^ SSSX . .!Dlfi most remarkable 
^'fhese groups w^^? ^Vftt gftth^Tfid \n Nflplef^ about Juan Valdfo, 
(1500?-1541)^ a Spaniard of high rank^ employed m the ser- 
vice of Charles V and a man of deyout^ Evangelical mysticism. 
JProna his disciple^ Benedetto of.MwtU(U came about 1540 the 
most popular book of this circle, The Benefits of Christ's Death. 
Ainong. his adherentft were Pietro Martira Vermigli (1500-^" 
1562), whose father had been an admirer of Savonarda, himself 
prior of the monastery of St. Peter in Naples, destined to be 
professor of Protestant theology in Strassburg and Osford; 

1 Kidd, pp. 307-318. 


and Bernardino Ochino (1487-1564), vicar-general of the 
Capuchin order, later Protestant prebendary of Cant»bury, 
pastor in Zurich, and ultimately a wanderer for erratic opinions. 
Another friend of this group was Caraffa's own nephew, Gral- 
eazzo Caraccioli, marquis of Vico, later to be Calvin's intimate 
associate in Greneva. These Italian Evangelicals were, however, 
imorganized and without princely support, save very cautiously 
in Ferrara, nor did they gain following among tiiie common 
people. In Italy they were an exotic growth; and the same 
may be said of lie very few Protestants who were to be found 
in Spain. 

^ope Paul III wavered for a time between the method of 
conciliation advocated by Oontarmi, who to ok part in the 

uirioirdiscussions in~Regensburg*(ctnfe, p. ?7 6) ag nanal lepS^. 
and that of Caraffa, who urged stern repres sion of doctrin al 
divergence, while advocating administrative and moral refor m. 
fiventuairy'*he degidaOcur thft^latter, aiid his decision becam e 
the policy of his successors^ On Caraffa's urgent appeal Jfaul 

m^ on July 21, 1.^42jrpnrgRni7^ thft inqiiiaitinn. lajgdv on the 

Spanish m odel, on a universal scale,^ though of course its actu al 
establishmg nr cook place unljiwlia 'i i It h&d the support or 
friendly civil authority. Before it, tKe f eJET^ beginnings ot 
Italian Protestantism rapidly disappeared. On e of the main 
weapons of the Catholic Counter-Reformatidif w as thus iorg ea. 
TVTuch more important was a revival of missionar y zeai which 
the freshge nius of Spain contributed to kinHlft Catli ^ Kfi g pf hnai- 
asm. Viewed from any standpoint, Ignatius ' Loyola is^e of 
the master figures of the Reformation epoch? inigo Lopez de 
Recalde was bom of a noble family in northern Spain in 1491. 
After serving as a page at the court of Ferdinand, he became a 
soldier. His intrepid firmness was exhibited when Pamplona 
was besieged by the French in 1521, but he received there a 
wound that made further military service impossible. During 
his slow recovery he studied the lives of Christ, St. Dominic, 
and St. Francis. Chivalrous ideals still lingered in Spain, 
and he determined that he would be a knight of the Virgin. 
Recovered, in a measure, he journeyed to Monserrat, and hung 
his weapons on the Virgin's altar. Thence he went to Manresa, 
where, in the Dominican monastery, he began those directed 
visions which were afterward to grow into his Spiritiud Ex- 

» Kidd, pp. 347-350. 


ercises. The year 1523 saw him a pilgrim in Jerusalem, but 
the Franciscans who were there maintaining the cross with 
difficulty, thought him dangerous and sent him home. 

Convinced that if he was to do the work he desired he must 
have an educatipn, Ignatius entered a boy's class in Barcelona, 
and went rapidly forward to the Universities of Alcal& and 
Salamanca. A bom leader, he gathered like-minded companions 
with whom he practised his spiritual exercises. This aroused 
the suspicion of the Spanish inquisition and his life was in 
danger. In 1528, he entered the University of Paris, just as 
Calvin was leaving it. There he made no public demonstra- 
tion, but gathered round himself a handful of devoted friends 
and disciples — ^Pierre LefSvre, Francis Xavier, Diego Lainez, 
Alfonso Salmeron, Nicolas Bobadilla, and Simon Rodriguez, 
mostly from the Spanish peninsula. In the church of St. 
Mary on Montmartre, in Paris, on August 15, 1534, these com- 
panions took a vow to go to Jerusalem to labor for the church 
and their fellow men, or, if that proved impossible, to put them- 
selves at the disposition of the Pope. It was a little student 
association, the connecting bond of which was love to Grod and 
the church, as they understood it. 

The year 1536 saw them in Venice; but Jerusalem was barred 
by war, and they now determined to ask the Pope's direction. 
Ignatius was beginning to perceive what his society might be- 
come. Italy had seen many military companies in earthly 
service. His would be the military company of Jesus, bound 
by a similar strictness of obedience, and a like careful, though 
'^spiritu al, exercis e of a r ms, to fi ght the battle of the church 
against mtidels and herelT^ In spite of ecclesiastical opposi- 
tion,_P§ul in was inducednby'this favorable attitude of Con- 
tarini and the skill of Ignatius to authorize the company on 
September 27, 1540/^ The constitution of the society was as 
yet indefinite, save that it was to have a head to whom full 
obedience was due, and should labor wherever that head and 
the Pope should direct. In April, 1541, Ignatius was chosen 
the first "general" — an office which he held till his death, 
July 31, 1556. 

The constitution of the Jesuits was gradually worked out, 
indeed it was not completed till after Ignatius's death, though 
its main features were his work. At the head is a "general/' 

1 Kidd, pp. 335-340. 



to whom absolute obediencejs due; b ut who^ in turn, is watdhed 
Dv assistants appointed by the order, and can. u necea 
be deposed by it. Over ^"^^ jnntn^ " " ^p>r^mni>/^ni^' — ^ 
pointed by the ''general." Eadi member is adm itted, afte r a 
<SfefO[I''novitiate, and pledges obedience to the f ullest ertent in 
an that does not involve sin. His superiors Mljgp ^^^ "^ ^Hf 
Wort: which 'they belfeve Him best fittpH tn ^n ThiL^ ^^nt 
work may be better armmpli.shfid the jftanitTRJ'ft hnnnd tn nn 
"fixed hours of worship or form of dress as are monlg. Eadi 
member is* disciplined by use of Ignatius's Spiriiiuu Exercises, 
— a remarkable work, in accordance with which the Jesuit is 
drilled in a spiritual manual of arms, by four weeks of intense 
contemplation of the principal facts of the life and wo^ ot 
Christ, and of the Christian warfare with evil, under the gui- 
dance of a spiritual drill-master. It was a marveUgygJjigtDL- 
ment that Ignatius constructe(}« pombining the indi vidualism <rf 
{he Henaissance — each man assigned to and trained for h is 

^C^ar^WOrk— with, thft y/^rifipft of wHT anrf "^ofppift/* nLyJiAnpp 

to the^ spiriFan3 ^ims of the whole. It sta nds as the v eiy 
> antit hesis of Protestantism. 
''Though the Jesuit society spread rapidly in Italy, Spun, 
and Portugal, it was slower in gaining strong foothold in France 
and Germany, but by the latter half of the sixteenth century 
it was the advance-guard of the Counter-Reformation. Jfy 
chief agencies were preaching, the confessional, its ezcdlent 
schools — ^not for the multitude, but for the weH-JSom'and 
/ well-to-do — and its foreign missions. Under Jes iSTmHueac e 
7 inore frequent confession and communion became the rme m 
^atholic countries; and, to aid the confessi onal| "flie Jesu it 
moral practice was gradually developed, chiefly af ter Ignatiu s^s 
death, and especially in the early part of the seventeen th pe n- 
tury, in a fa^on that has aroused the criticism noi only of 
Protestants but of many Catholics. In estimating them 
aright it should be remembered that these moral treatises do 
not represent ideals of conduct, but the minima on which ab- 
solution can be given; and, also, that the Jesuit morality an- 
phasized the universal Latin tendency to regard sin as a series 
of definite acts rather than as a state. 

The nature of sin itself was minimized. That only is sin 
which is done with a clear knowledge of its sinfulness and a full 
consent of the will. Personal responsibility was imdermined 


by the doctrine of ''piobabilism/' by which a mail could choose 
what seemed to hun the worse course if it had for it accepted 
authority. ''Mental reservation/' also, taught that men^ for 
ends that seemed good, were not bound to give the whole truth 
on oath, or even a correct impression — a doctrine that more 
than any other produced the common Anglo-Saxon Protestant 
feeling tibat Jesuits were unscrupulous and untrustworthy. 

Naturally a society thus international in character, the 
members, of which were bound to their oflScers by constant 
letters and reports, s